


Desert Storm

by AlecdeNocturna



Category: Ancient Egyptian Religion, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magic, Philosophies, Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 46,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22891477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlecdeNocturna/pseuds/AlecdeNocturna
Summary: A tale of Egyptian gods between their supposed place in the order of the world and their own ambitions.
Relationships: Anubis/Set
Kudos: 13





	1. The Beginning of the Plan: Phase One

**Author's Note:**

> Greeting to all you lovely readers, who have found their way into this little rabbit hole. First of all, I blame this whole thing on Assassins Creed Origins with its gorgeous Graphics, depictions of the Duat and presentations of the religion of ancient Egypt. Well, I blame the game for this version of the story at least. The basis for the tale you will find below has been laid some teen years ago in German. It was born out of my love for ancient Egyptian myths and my time at the university. As soon as I had heard of the gods and goddesses of ancient Egypt and Greece, I felt a kinship with them, more so than with the Christian God. But I didn't like that some gods were always cast as unredeemable evil and evil without a reason. It felt unfair. So I took it upon myself to write something about one of those gods, Set or Sutech, as he is called in Egypt. I wanted this piece to be a kind of prayer in his name if one could imagine something like that in our modern times. The original story flows a little different, in my defense, I was younger then and I would like to think, that my tastes have refined somewhat in the meantime. 
> 
> I decided to revamp the whole thing in English, which the mindful reader can deduct, is not my first language. I hope you will forgive my mistakes, and if you find some glaring ones, point them out to me, so that I can better myself. This text rushed out of me in a creative frenzy in five days at the beginning of January. After this, I sent it to my best friend to be beta-read. And then it sat on my hard drive until I got the courage to actually go over his suggestions and post it after all.
> 
> A few warnings, before you can jump into this tale: I'm switching quite often between the Egyptian and the English version of the god names, as well as the names for the land Egypt, India and Greece, so beware. Also I'm using mostly Egyptian terms for the soul and magic. And lastly, the timeline will seem a little wonky, please be patient. We are speaking of gods, their timeline is by definition wonky, and it is also a piece of fiction, so please accept the timey whimey, wibbly wobbly wonkiness.   
> And now, enjoy the epic tale of hot sands and even hotter gods.  
> Glossary:  
> Sutech = Set  
> Iset = Isis  
> Harsiese = Horus, Son of Isis  
> Kemet = Egypt  
> Ma'at = Truth, Order  
> Isefet = Chaos  
> Ka = Part of the Soul, the Double of the Self  
> Shuyet = Part of the Soul, the Sadow of the Self  
> Ba = Part of the Soul, the Personality  
> Ren = Part of the Soul, the true Name of the Self  
> Duat = the Underworld, the Land of the Dead  
> Heka = Magic  
> Satech = Sat-Sutech, Daughter of Set  
> Barat = India  
> Maya = Illusion  
> Samsara = Cycle of Rebirth  
> Kantharos = a Greek Wine Cup  
> Apoptygma = the upper Part of the Peplos  
> Peplos = the traditional Clothes of Athena  
> Æsir = the Norse Pantheon  
> Jötunn = a Race of Frostgiants, Enemies to the Æsir  
> Laufey = Loki's hermaphrodite Progenitor  
> Seiðr = Form of Norse Magic

The cackling laughter of the other Great Ones echoed still in his ears, as he at long last, arrived in his great black tower in the desert behind his temples in Ombos. He strode nearly on instinct with long strides through the imposing entrance hall of his great palace. His mind was not here in this soothing glittering black stone surrounded by the red sands of his beloved desert. No, his mind circled one question like a pack of hyenas does its prey: What slithering path, what cruel destiny had brought him here? If he was honest with himself, he would answer this all-consuming question with one word: stupidity, his own at that. But in his defense, he was a man, a god, yes, but a male one, and somebody had said a long time ago, that men stood by their urges. And those he had in spades, in godly spades, inhumanly at that, because he was more than a meek creature, that walked the earth just to serve and to pray. He was the Mighty One, the strong-armed One, the Shaker of the Skies. But all his titles, all those wonderful words could not save him in this situation. It was in his nature and his nature had betrayed him time and time again.   
With a long-suffering sigh, he collapsed gracelessly on his bed. His big hands took his ceremonial god helmet off and he put it on its crimson velvet cushion, where it rested on a small table beside his bed.   
Boneless and exhausted he sank into his bed and stared with unseeing eyes at the black ceiling of his bedchamber. In his mind's eye, he saw that embarrassing story in all its wretched glory like a theater play on a seemingly never-ending loop.

It wasn't that long ago, that his brother suffered the most crushing defeat in all the history of Kemet and its gods at his hands. In his defense, that was one fight that was justified. His companion, the wife the council put at his side, was barren, whatever he did, she would not bear his offspring. Well, that part he could live with and overlook, considering that Nephthys was one crafty woman and had helped him with good counsel and some ingenious ideas. But that she would run off to his brother Osiris, to beg him to fuck her and to become pregnant by him, the mighty king of the two lands, well that was a fucking sacrilege and a mighty blow to Sutechs honour. That his brother, the glittering jewel in the crown of Ra, would do a deed, his poor older brother could not, that he would lay with his brother's wife, his own wife's sister, just to spite Set was, well it was typical for Osiris, that little shit. He was the one who could turn barren sand into fertile black soil, he was the one to reign over the two lands, that should have been his by birthright, and to cap it all of, he, the mighty Osiris was the one, to sow his seed in a seemingly barren woman and to reap a child out of it all. And what a child it was, not anyone, not, the weigher of hearts, the lord over death himself was brought forth by the living seed of the king of the black lands.  
In his mind, his subsequent plan was justified for that dishonour he had suffered at his brother's hands. He only cut him into forty-two pieces and scattered them over all of Egypt and its lifeblood the Nile. But those hysterical sisters of his would not stop crying and wailing and went even so far as to enlist his new nephews help to gather all the pieces up and resurrect that little bastard. One wink of Aset's little magical finger and Osiris' still dead body could produce an erection strong enough that this crazy woman could hump it and pleasure herself with it, so she could beget her only son out of this travesty. This whole story would have ended if the loud funeral wailing and the beating of breasts had not brought the council into it all. Curious as all gods were, they looked into it and found the mighty Osiris cut to pieces, stitched back together and bound into the form of a mummy. A big trial followed, wherein it was declared that the Resurrected One could no longer reign over Egypt, a job, that would fall to his brother for the time being. But Osiris would still have his kingdom in the Duat, the land of the dead, where he would be their sole ruler.   
Set had been happy. He had the crown he always wanted and he would show them all that he would and could be a great king, better than Osiris ever had been. But his reign should not last long. The small child his sister conceived grew fast. Horus was at first a sweet boy, Harsiese he would call him, Horus, son of Isis. He played in the royal gardens and would even come to Set and beg him to tell him a story or two. But as soon as Iset, his devilish sister saw this, she would shoo her son away from his uncle and chide him. She would tell Horus, that Set was the murderer of his father, and that he wanted to kill him too because he was the rightful heir to the throne of the two lands. This was the reason, the little boy swore revenge for the murder of his father and would engage Set in battle after battle for the double crown.   
But revenge and war were Set's domains. He would show this little upstart how to wage war and how to win.  
In the coming years, Set had to learn that that little shit eater could fight. Bloody battle after bloody battle ravaged the land, but none of them could claim the hard-earned victory. They fought with weapons, magic and their troops conjured out of desert sand and Nile mud, sometimes even humans were thrown into the vast legions of helmed soldiers. Both gods adorned their own heads and those of their fighters with their signature animals headed helmets, Horus' a falcon and Set's this strange and exotic mixture between an aardvark, a donkey and a jackal. Their battlefields wandered all over Kemet and sowed destruction whenever they met and their weapons clashed. Set fought with his trusty Khopesh and his Was-scepter, dealing out sharp blows of hard steel and mighty bursts of magic, conjuring storms, sand clouds and drying out whole lakes. Horus, on the other hand, fought with a long pole, one end capped off by a stylized papyrus like fan-blade and the other with a straight double-edged tip. The little falcon often conjured swamp plants, that wound around Set's soldier's feet to ground them or tucked them into the ground. He also evoked glaring sunbursts to blind his enemies. Both fought with everything the had, but none could gain a decisive victory over the other. At one battle, a well placed wicked spell won Set the torn out and bloody left eye of Horus, which he displayed proudly on his battle armour. The moon darkened completely at this time and plunged the black land into a series of long and dark nights. But even one-eyed Horus struck a blow so hard, that it took one of Sets testicles, which Horus threaded on a cord and wore it around his neck. Thereafter whenever the two met in battle, Horus would cup his hand around the still bleeding flesh and taunt his uncle with it.  
„Hey now mighty Set, will you not just give up, I've got you by the balls!"  
His loud guffawing laugh shook Set's teeth and he would point to the bloody eye on his armour.  
„Well, you need one of those close by, because one-eyed as you are, you can't find your own this easy!"   
Even mutilated as they were, their battles raged on. And so the great council was getting tired of the senseless bloodshed and it called both warriors to its grand chamber. Set followed the orders more or less on his own volition. Mostly he speculated, that Ra, the Creator of them all, would speak for him because he knew the sun god favoured him in his claim for the throne. It was after all the law, that the older brother should inherit the claim from his father and not the younger one.   
As he strode before the council, proudly standing before them in his warrior's armour, helm tucked under his arm, he side-eyed Horus, with his mother Iset behind him. She and her sister whispered in the background and Iset gestured with a worried face in his direction. At this, he could not suppress a sharp grin which showed his canines to the women. Nephthys shuddered at this show of force and Iset cuddled her shivering sister to her bosom and sent a glare in Sets direction.   
It mattered not. He was sure, that the council would see reason and declare him the victor once and for all. By the law, it was his birthright.  
The council chamber was full of the old gods, his fathers and mothers and theirs also. At their front sat Ra, the never-dying Sun, Father to them all, behind his back rose two vertical plumes, signifying him beeing also Amun, the Hidden One. He declined his head to Set, who bowed before the Old Ones. Not as deep, as he could have, but deep enough. On Ra's side sat other male and female gods, the male to his right, the females to his left. There were Nut and Geb, goddess of the sky and god of the earth and parents to Set, Osiris, Iset and Nephthys, there were Chnum, the Ram-headed Creator of Men, Ptath, the Creator of Goods and Architect of the gods. There were Sekhmet and her twin sister Bastet, the twin goddesses of beauty, dance, warfare, healing and plagues and of course cats. There were Hathor, the Cow-mother of Kings and the Lady of the Western Lands, goddess of beauty and motherhood, the Mother of gods Mut and Shu, the god of wind and his wife Tefnut, the goddess of moisture and the grandparents of Set and his siblings. There were Khonsu, the Moon, and Khepri, the Sun Beetle, also Sobek, the great Devourer, and Serket with her mighty Sting. And last but not least there were the three most important goddesses, Wadjet, the Cobra of lower Egypt, Nekhbet, the Vulture of upper Egypt and Ma'at, the Feather of Truth, Justice, and Order. Those three would have the last words in this debate.   
Ra opened the great trial with those words: „My beloved children, consorts, brothers and sisters. Today we all stand here to judge those two men, both great warriors, both with a claim two the throne of the two lands, both justified. But before we can decide, whos claim rings with Ma'at, we must restore them. In their haste to find a victor among them, they both have committed heinous mutilation on the other."  
With this, his burning gaze turned upon Set. „My child, give back Horus left eye, that he may see his way not only in the day but also the night."  
Set's skin, sun-kissed from all those eons in the desert, still prickled with the hot sting of the blazing of the Sun-God. He knew, encouraging Ra's wrath through disobedience in this very moment could ruin it all, so he nestled his bloody trophy from his armour and let it fall into Iset's outstretched hand. His sorceress sister ran with her burden to her precious son and some magic words later, restored his left eye to him. The room brightened for a moment and Horus grinned rakishly at the council.  
„A thousand thanks to you, oh great and wise council, for showing those of us, who did not find their right way, the true path to honour and justice."   
But his arrogant victory would not last long. For Ra spoke also to him: „Boy, as you have received, so you shall give. Give back your uncle's testicle, for what is a man without his seed? You would dishonour him in keeping it for yourself without gifting him an offspring in return, begotten of his very seed."  
Sets lips stretched into a mocking grin, at the big bulging eyes of his nephew. His great-grandfather had humor after all. Meekly with a shamefully bowed head, Horus took his garish necklace off and threw it disgusted at his uncle. Set caught it with a deft hand. He didn't need another one's magic but his own. And so he swallowed his ball in one gulp. The magic in his body saw to it that it regrew were it belonged. With the re-added weight, his stance grew a little bit more strong and grounded and another grin lifted the left half of his lips. Now he was sure, that Ra would see justice done, the right kind of justice.  
But Ra's next words should shatter his dreams of kinghood once and for all.   
"Now that we have seen to their wholeness, it is time to decide once and for all who should be ruler over the beautiful jewel of our beloved Kemet. Set, Horus, please come forth." He gestured to both and both men took the three steps to the throne of the God-King. "You both have valid claims, one by age and the law of succession and one by the same law and by inheritance. Whom should we bestow the great honour of ruling over the two lands?" With a pointed glance, he looked left and right und Set could hear the murmurs and whispers of the other gods. He knew most of the old ones favoured him. Sobek and Serket respected his prowess, power, and might, Shu saw the old laws as his creed, and under those, he as the older brother should have been king. Nut and Geb were on Horus' side, as were Hathor and Bastet, wherein her sister Sekhmet was on his side. The opinion of the other ones he did not know, but it would become clear all too soon. The four for Horus and the four for Set raised their hands as Ra called for a sign of favour. The questioning gaze of the king turned on those, who had refused their vote. Mut and Tefnut begged him to be excused from this voting, for their love as mothers for their children was equal and they could not decide in favour for one over the other. As for the Sun and the Moon, they also claimed to be unable to decide, which of the two gods would be suited best as Pharaoh. And lastly, Chnum and Ptath as creators of things and men spoke of their duty to their creations. They would follow the way of Ma'at over Isefet, as it should be, but they could not make Ma'at, that was not in their hands. At the end of the voting, it stood four against four. Four voices out of fourteen had spoken, but the four of those yet unheard were the deciders. Ra looked upon the three women, the goddesses of the crowns and of the true way. What would they say?  
Nekhbet was the first to speak, her beak a wicked curve in front of her feathered face. She was of the harsh lands, of the mountains and the deserts, she would understand him, surly.   
"Oh Great One, almighty Ra, never-ending Light. I have seen the battlefields of those two. My sands have been drenched in their blood and the blood of their soldiers, my sisters and I have fed on their corpses, and I say, it is enough. Our land needs the water of the Nile as it's nourishment, not the blood of its sons. A god, dedicated to the hot sands of the red wastes could never understand the need for the rich black soil of our lifeblood. He only knows storms and foreigners. Even the loving touch of his wife could not warm his heart or his loins. He, who can't sire a child can't rule as a father of the two lands."   
With her peace said, she yielded the floor to her sister. Wadjet's hood flared, as her forked tongue slithered out of her fanged mouth and she hissed her verdict.  
"Oh Blazing Sun, Father to us all. My sister is right in her judgment. My children and I have fed on the swimming bloated corpses of their soldiers in the reed of my beloved delta. Sons that should have cut reed or papyrus have been cut themselves with knives and sickles. That should not be so. Men should cut grass and not other men's flesh. I say the one, who knows only sand and deserts will never understand the lush fields or the flowing waters of the Nile, he will not know how to give floods to the people and how to instruct them to cultivate our black soil and to live from it. He of red sand and storms should not rule over our fertile and peaceful land."  
At last, Ma'at spoke and the ostrich feather upon her head did not move one iota from its position. Truth was in her words.  
"I too cannot give Set the throne of the two lands. Yes, by the old law he has the firstborns right to it. But he squandered this right with the first blow against Horus. Swords and magic should stay outside of our borders, they should defend us against the Isefet outside of our land and not wage war within. It is Horus' right as the heir of his father to succeed him on his golden throne. So it shall be."  
"So it shall be, by Ma'at!" echoed around the chamber. Nobody dared to speak against those three. It was after all Ma'at.  
Hot vitriolic anger seared Set's insides and he pressed his teeth with such ferocity together, that his whole skull vibrated with their gnashing.   
Those weak-minded fools. How could they? With his hands balled into fists, he glared daggers at the happy family of Horus and his two sisters, who peppered their son and nephew with motherly kisses and smiled at him, as if he hung their sun in the sky. He could even detect a pearly white grin coming from the shadows behind Horus. None other than Osiris stood in all his bandaged glory behind them and patted proudly the shoulder of his son.   
Ra saw the hatred and disappointment radiating from his beloved great-grandson and wanted to soften the blow at least a little bit.  
"Now that that matter is done with, I have a favour to ask of you, oh mighty Set. Now that the burden of the crown no longer presses upon your shoulders and your hands are free once more from the crook and the flail, would you take up your spear and stand at the prow of my barge to defend my nightly travels through the Duat from the World Encircler, the great evil serpent Apep?"  
Set of course knew of the great serpent and its wish to devour all of creation, beginning with Ra himself. What the Sun-God asked of him was truly a great honour. To stand by his side and to defend him in the darkest hours of the Duat would certainly redeem him in the eyes of the others. Still, a little bit baffled Set noded and so ended the great trial, with Horus on the throne and Set on the prow of Ra's barge, at least in the nightly hours of the day.   
But Set's hunger could not be sated by his nightly work, bloody as it may be. Every night he cut the serpent in a thousand pieces, only to repeat it the next night and the one after that and so forth. The work, noble as it was, was also tedious and it occupied him only half of his day. In the other half, he still felt betrayed and unjustly cast away. And so he began to plan.  
He waited for the right moment that came to him one morning in the form of his wife. Officially she still had her quarters in his black tower, so she came by from time to time to get some new clothes or a different pot of make-up. At this particular morning, Set lounged in his throne, brooding over his nephew and how to best oust him from his ill-gotten throne. A loud crashing of the doors announced a visitor to the god and his lazy gaze found Nephthys in whirling white robes and messy hair, probably from her ride to the tower.   
"Oh, it's only you. What brings you here, dearest wife?" Even feigning civility ignited the old festering anger again and stroke the flames of the hatred seething low in his belly. But Nephthys seemed to not even hear his biting tone or else she would not have answered in such a good mood.   
"I'm looking for my festive robes, I believe, they are still here around somewhere. I need to look presentable this evening, our nephew gives a big feast, he is even out hunting for it himself. What a generous and brave young man, braving the reed thickets just for a good piece of meat."   
She didn't even look at her husband, that firstly wasn't even invited to this supposed feast and secondly wouldn't go, even if he had been invited.   
A feast? What a pretentious little boy playing at being a man. Set scoffed at the idea of his nephew hunting alone in the reed thickets of lower Egypt. What an idiot. But then his mind ground to a halt and he frowned at the empty hall. Could it be? Could that be the moment he had waited for? His teeth worried his lips as he turned the newly formed idea in his head. Yes, that was it. Exactly what he needed to get his revenge.   
As fast as the winds of the desert he was up and surged out of his tower. Riding on the hot winds, that blew on his command from the western sand dunes, he arrived not long after his departure in the reed thickets, his nephews hunting ground. Now he would show this little boy how a real predator stalked its prey.   
A little gesture, one word and a spark of magic were all he needed to track down Horus. His fine ears perked up at the sound of the messy footsteps and splashing of the water, that hailed the little Falcons coming. Set crouched low in one of the thicker reed patches and waited with bated breath for his nephew. Horus, totally absorbed in his own hunt, had his eyes fixated on a track of a big hippotamus, he had chased through half of the reed thickets. But his keen falcon-like eyes were only fixed on the one track and he had lost sight of everything around him. As he walked right by the hidden form of Set, he waited for one more breath and then pounced at the unsuspecting Horus. The young boy king was instantly toppled to the ground by the full weight of his uncle's body ramming into his lower back. His nose and mouth were pressed into the muddy ground and he had to turn his head slightly if he did not want to suffocate from the soil. Before Horus could regain his senses and the control over his shock frozen body, Set pinned his arms and legs with his own and parked himself for good measure on Horus' nicely shaped ass.   
Sputtering and gulping for air, Horus' raw voice accused his attacker: "What is the meaning of this? Unhand me at once you miserable coward." He still had no inkling who had attacked him cowardly from behind and therefore he was not prepared to hear the velvety voice of his own blood responding to his outcry.   
"Oh my dear nephew, how careless of you, to hunt your own prey with such fervor to totally disregard your surroundings. If I had not been me, but a truly evil bandit, why I would have cut your throat and made off with your fine weapons before you could even draw them." Set's mocking words set Horus teeth on edge. And he was right, that damned bastard of an uncle was right. He had been careless, maybe because of the peace the council had ordered or because he felt safe in his knowledge, that Set had now important work to do, that would stroke his immense ego. But no, his cursed uncle had found him at his weakest and had seized this opportunity. And now the fucking bastard sat upon him, like upon a throne. He even had the audacity to fidget around on his body as if to search for a better sitting position. Set's weight on him ground his body even more in the soft mud underneath him and made it that more difficult to buck him off.   
Set's words had sown enough doubt in the boy's mind, that he did not immediately feel, what his uncle's previously idle hands had in mind. Set saw the reaction his words provoked in his prey and he had speculated for this exact effect. How else could he distract Horus long enough, that he would not notice the disappearance of his sash kilt or the hands kneading and spreading his naked ass? But sadly for Set Horus had a quick mind, and besides his uncle's words, that wormed their way deep into his psyche, rose up those of his mother. She had told him, Set would try to mislead and befuddle him, he would try to use his own mind and doubts against him. She had also told him, that he should shake off those poisonous words as soon as possible and not give them room in his thoughts. And that was exactly what he did. He cleared his mind of all those soft and mocking words, of his self-doubts, that they ignited and his conscious rose once more free from inner battle to the forefront of his mind and in the right moment too. He felt big hands pawing at his kilt, pushing it aside and kneading the bare flesh underneath. Rough fingers began to spread his pale cheeks and he knew with certainty, that his uncle tried to violate him. If Set succeded Horus would be the laughing stock of the gods, a king, who could not even protect himself. Even if Set's semen had not flowered in his wife, he the mighty king would bear a child from it. Something, that would make him fit to be a queen or a concubine, but not the ruler of the two lands. It was this vision of his future, that lent him the strength to buck wildly under the immense weight of the man above him and to find the right purchase and angle to finally throw him off before he could finish his dastardly deed. One last look behind showed him his perplexed uncle sitting in a shallow pond with his erect shaft in his hand and an ever-darkening expression on his aristocratic face. Horus fled the scene of the near crime with a hasty retreat in his falcon form.   
Meanwhile, the mighty magician studied his still hard cock with a betrayed look. Why had it not worked, as he had planned? He knew that this botched attempt would heap even more ridicule on him and still, he had been so sure his plan would work. He had even laced his words with a charm of doubt, to make them truly effective, but Iset must have cast a protection spell on her son, to guard him against Set's magic.   
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His words of rage and anger thundered over the reed thickets and the soft wind picked up its pace, storm clouds began to gather over his head and the first lightning bolts scattered through the dark heavy rainclouds, followed by deep cracks of thunder. A storm had arrived, mighty and angry as the god, whos will controlled it. All the destructive power of nature, unloading its grief at its master's command. The cold rain slathering the ground and the sitting god, cooled his explosive temper at least a little bit. The coldness had at least one beneficial side effect, it turned his hard flesh flaccid so that he could put it away again. Still growling under his breath, he summoned his desert winds again to bring him back from whence he came, back to his black tower, back to his brooding and scheming, just back.  
The scandal and gossip he had feared did not come. Not the day after the 'accident', as he had dubbed this little misadventure in his head, nor the day after that, or the weak, that followed. But the coming week brought another surprise, an invitation from the council to a great celebration. A big feast to celebrate the anniversary of Horus' crowning. Even if Set did not want to go, everybody went, Osiris would be there, leaving his seat in the underworld, and even the diligent weigher of hearts Anubis would put his work to rest for one day. Set could not decline this important function, or he would be the laughing stock of the gods for certain. And so with a still bitter taste in his mouth, he accepted the invitation. He even took the time to make himself extra presentable with his most dashing ceremonial armor, wrought in gold and Elektron, peppered with garnets, emeralds and lapis lazuli. Even his helmet, the head of his signature animal, this undefiable mixture between an aardvark, a donkey and a jackal, glittered in the light of the oil lamps, that illuminated his bedchamber. The eye holes were surrounded by gold inlays that resembled his normal eye make-up, the back of the helmet, representing his hair and cowl, had inlays of alternating gold and garnet stripes to signify is un-egyptian red hair color. All in all, he cut an imposing figure, a mighty warrior and magician, as shown by his long Was-sceptre, he carried just on those formal occasions. He even had, and civilly at that, asked his wife Nephthys to accompany him in her official capacity as his chosen consort. And she had accepted. There still was no love left between the two of them, but they could be civil with each other if the occasion warranted it. And even he had to say, that Nephthys was beautiful in her splendid dress, white nearly see-through pleated linen with golden embroidery, one net-dress of blood-red beads thrown over it, her golden crown with her signature sign of the house hieroglyph and the bowl on top of it, glittering golden threads peppered in her midnight black hair and equally black eye make-up rounded the picture up. She sure was a sight to behold.  
They arrived in the great palace of the gods, a big temple-like structure, its portal a high double pylon with golden flags fluttering high up on their wooden poles. The white limestone was painted in the most beautiful and vivid colours known to men and gods, the clear dark blue of Azurite, the deep green of Malachite, the blood-red of fine Ochre, the void like black of Charcoal and of course the glittering yellow of Gold and the silvery shine of Elektron, all those colours combined into picture, language and hymns evoked the whole history of their kind and their land. Their feet strode over a thousand upon a thousand plucked flowers, the petals crushed under their heels to bring forth their sweet odour. Over their heads hung white stripes of the finest linen, stitched with golden thread, between the colourful lotus capital pillars. Shallow pools of clear blue water lined their way into the palace, big iridescent glowing and blue shimmering lotus flowers growing on the water and shedding little motes of light with every breeze, that clung to their clothes and made themselves a part of the festive decoration. The banquet hall had no roof to cover it from the silvery light of the moon and stars, only more fine cloth overhead. Flickering fire cages and torches illuminated the other guest in a warm light. All were sitting around in small groups, bedded on fine pelts of leopards and lions, soft to the touch and smelling of exotic lands. Set and Nephthys were greeted by Ra himself, the God-King made it his duty to greet every guest and to formally welcome them to the fest with the customary placing of perfumed wax cones on their heads. And with that done, both gods went their separate ways to mingle with their brothers and sisters. Set had found a little corner with some like-minded individuals, and listened to the stories of Sobek, who told his avid listeners about one of his conquests, devouring a hole Hipottamus while fucking Thermuthis. It brought him much laughter and some claps on his shoulder as he finished. In the short moment of silence, all eyes turned to Set.  
"Oh mighty conqueror of the foreign lands, bringer of storms over the desert, why won't you tell us one of your glorious stories of conquest in and out of battle?" Sobek's grin was bloodthirsty and he licked his sharp teeth. Set always had such good stories to tell, and such a quicksilver tongue to tell them with. But the god in question was uncharacteristically silent, his stare a million miles away, as he searched for a good distraction. In truth, he had no stories to tell of conquests and victories, only of failures and defeat. So his eyes roamed the banquet hall and stuck to the big beer barrels and wine jugs not far behind their current sitting arrangement.   
"Well my dear friends, my throat is parched from my dry desert sands and all the laughing due to your words. I think, my tongue will be loosened with some liquid nourishment, don't you think?"  
That seemed to be the cue, everybody had waited for. The gods and goddesses looked into their alabaster cups and saw nothing but emptiness. Thirsty for more libation they pounced on the stored alcohol, that flowed like the life-giving waters of the Niles in their cups and sated their appetite for excitement, Set's supposed stories thankfully forgotten and buried under a flood of intoxication.  
To soak up all that alcohol their tables were never empty of fine white bread, fresh figs and dates, even pomegranates and apples garnished their tables. Fresh salad and lettuce enriched the savory taste of freshly hunted meat of birds and all kind of wildlife. As Set partook in all those delicacies, he did not see the quick hands of his crafty sister adding something extra to his bowl of lettuce and other greenery. The bitter taste of the plant covered another kind of bitterness very well and Set was none the wiser. He ate and drank and laughed with his family until the next morning.   
The weeks after the feast his usual vigor waned. His whole body felt tired, heavy and bloated. There were days, he couldn't even leave his bed, so tired was he. His energy was so weak, it didn't even suffice for his weakest spells. This frightened him to the core. How could he defend Ra like this? He covered this sickness with some glamours woven long ago in his clothes and stored magical energy from his weapons, but every night his sword arm grew heavier and heavier and it cost him more and more energy to even lift his spear to battle the great serpent Apep. What was happening to him? However thorough he searched and monitored himself, he could not find an answer to this dangerous riddle. Until the day another invitation came to him. He was to appear before the great council at once. With heavy limbs and only the strongest of his glamours in place, he trudged to his chariot and rode to the council chambers. But instead of an answer he so prayed for, he got a tongue lashing from the council, that burned his ears and nearly crushed him into the grounds. Defiler, they called him, blasphemer. He had committed a grave sacrilege against the ruler of the two lands and his Pharaoh at that, how could he. His head was bowed, not in shame, but in feebleness and the words stoked again the low burning flames of revenge. What had that little bastard waited this long to tattle on him? He would get the answer to this question sooner then he wanted because, in the middle of the rant from Ra, the mighty Sun-god stopped, and a pregnant silence followed until the mooing laughter of Hathor broke the spell, and every one of the great council joined her amusement. Even with his downcast gaze he could see the light hovering over him and illuminating the darkened chamber. A great golden disk began to form over his head and hover not a hand from his crown over him. It swelled in size and the light from it pulsated in a kind of heartbeat rhythm. Ra declared with a harsh gesture, he should send the disk to its rightful progenitor. All too willingly Set cut the five glowing strands, connecting him and his lifeforce, his Ka and Heka, to this parasite, and the disk hovered only for a moment directionless over his head. Then it zoomed to its maker. Set couldn't believe in front of which god the glowing disk stopped. The boy-king looked with awe at the golden monstrosity that began to swirl at his hesitant touch. It whirled around itself, faster and faster, and the pulsating light grew stronger and stronger until it stopped at a position mirroring the seat of Horus double crown right in front of him. With one last mighty pulse and an accompanying bright light, the disk seemed to explode in a shower of light motes and shards, forming a new body underneath it. The golden light coalesced and it turned nearly white and silvery, revealing a beak and an ibis head, followed by a male body underneath it. Set's eyes burned and teared from this light show, but out of some morbid curiosity, he had to watch this whole spectacle. This was also why he did see the pleased grin on his sister's face and an equal pleased nod of his own wife. Those two bitches, this was their doing. His rage, momentarily subsiding in favour for his disbelief, took again the center stage of his thoughts. The low simmering heat seethed higher and higher, and he would have done something dumb and dangerous, had not Ra's voice stopped him dead in his tracks.   
"My new child, what an interesting birth you have had. Would you tell us your name, little one?"   
The new god blinked a littles owlishly into the group of gods and spoke his first words.  
"Oh golden One, father of us all, my name is Thoth, keeper of words and if you have my, scribe and messenger to all of you. My domains are the moon and all its secrets, whose warden I am."  
The council exploded in applause and well wishes and they shouted for a new seat at their table for their newborn brother.   
Even if they hadn't even heard Set's complains about his health, he now had his answer. His wicked sister had mixed some of Horus' seed under his lettuce and put a spell on it, to hide its result, until he was called forth by the council, only then would the deed be revealed. What a disgrace of his reputation. Before Ra could compose himself and inquire after Set, the god in question had fled the scene and rode on fast winds back to his tower, where he now lay. 

Tired eyes under heavy lids squinted at the door, as a young woman of indeterminate age slunk into his bedchamber. Milky white skin and ivory coloured locks accented by albino red eyes signified the small and delicate stature of his beloved consort Lilith. In her crimson red dress she was a study of contrasts and brightened every room in his dark and gloomy tower she sat just one foot into. Her ruby eyes swam with sympathy as she crawled next to him on his massive bed. What a pitiful sight he was, the mighty warrior, reduced to this picture of misery. His red locks fanned tussled and mussed on the mattress behind him, his normally intelligent and sparkling stormy dark grey eyes had lost their spark and shone only a dull grey, his thin mouth was turned downwards, his face lacked its usual wicked grin and it seemed to her, that even his strong jaw set a little less determined. All in all, he looked utterly exhausted and defeated. His sun-kissed brown golden skin had a pallid hue to it, maybe due to the stress and draining of his magical power. His normally so strong and vigorous body was nearly swallowed by his mattress and only his big hands seemed to hold him aloft.  
"My beloved, how are you?"  
A maybe unnecessary question, but he appreciated the sentiment none the less. His rough hand cupped her cheek tenderly as her rosy lips kissed his thumb in an affectionate gesture.   
"Oh sweet one, I don't even know where to begin. That sickness, that plagued me the last weeks, it was one wicked spell from my crafty sister, may her Ka be devoured whole by the great beast. At the feast, she must have mixed my nephew's semen under my lettuce and I gave him an offspring, a new god of the moon and the hidden knowledge. He was born not an hour ago right before the council. That was, what sapped all my strength and Heka away. And not only that, he told the council about my botched attempt and they gave me a tongue lashing, I am not forgetting so soon."  
As he spoke, his fingers carded absent-mindedly through the silky strands of her hair and she hugged him with a strength that belied the delicateness of her limbs.  
"They all betrayed me, even Ra laughed at my misery and shame. None of them are worthy of my allegiance anymore, none of those bastards."  
His words grew heated and full of hatred, poison seeping deeper into his mind from all those festering wounds to his ego and honour.   
"Then you need new friends, my sweet storm. Find those equally betrayed and overlooked and free yourself from the influence of those who want to harm you once and for all."  
Her words, softly spoken, rung true in his ears and were like a soothing balm on his heated mind. They were even able to elicit a weak grin that brightened his normally hard and now tired features. Lilith was truly one of the few ones, that could lighten his sour mood with only a handful of words. A gift she had passed on to their daughter Satech.  
After he had basked a few more moments in her arms, he pushed himself up on his elbows and examined the woman next to him with a keen eye. How was it, that this woman, a foreigner in his lands, had the gift to lift his spirits, wherein his own wife, his own blood only crushed him even more? And the woman next to him was not afraid to show her foreignness to all the world to see. Her narrow face with the impossible high cheekbones and sunken cheeks under it, her delicate chin and jaw, the slender nose and almond-shaped bright red eyes, her small but full lips, her milky white skin, and ivory hair. All that made her different in a land with sun-kissed brown or golden skin, dark eyes and hair. She was an outcast, like him. But in her breast burned the Ka of a beast, a demon, if once unleashed, would bring terror and destruction over a land. 

He had found her some years ago at the edge of his deserts to the east. Her beautiful white flesh bare any obstructing fabrics. Her feet were buried in a sand dune and her gaze was fixed on a tiny green speck on the horizon farther east. He had ridden out into the desert for a good hunt but stumbled over a prey of a different kind. But even in this moment of supposed total vulnerability, she had been no prey in his eyes. A strange woman in this kind of situation and location had stoked his curiosity and so he stepped gingerly next to her.  
"Oh light one, many greeting upon you, stranger in these lands. Be welcome in the eastern deserts of the land of Ma'at. May I ask you, from whence you came in this state of yours to my lands?"  
Her head rotated to her side like that of an owl and she looked at him with her blood-red eyes. Her voice was light and suitable for her overall stature.  
"Mighty ruler over these lands, lord of the eastern desert. I am called Lilith and I came from a small garden to the far east of here, this little green speck on the horizon. I was made together with my former mate, a man called Adam by our creator Yahwe. We were to be his first children and should obey his very laws. But as he commanded me, that I should lie with my companion and be his subservient, I cried out and defied him. I would not bow down to any man and lie beneath him as the earth lies beneath the sky. I am my own sky and I shine for myself. Our creator banned me from his garden and since then I wandered these deserts in search of nourishments, my only companions being the wild animals of these parts."   
Her outstretched hand pointed at a pack of desert hyenas and jackals, that played not far from her together with a flock of some vultures and owls.   
To say that Set was impressed, was an understatement. This woman, a human probably, had the audacity to defy the will of her god, her creator and instead of perishing, flourished in her banishment. That was one rare creature. His eyes scanned her again, this time, more slowly and thorough and he could see the Heka wafting off of her body. No, she was no human. He couldn't say, if the Yahwe had miscalculated and had given her some of his own Ka or if she elevated herself through her own deeds, but her Ka was that of a demoness, a creature of the desert sand, of cold nights and hot days, of storms and punishments, of ravaging prowess and cold revenge.   
It seemed his neighboring deity had made a grave error in his calculations. Set had never understood this Yahwe. This one god from a tiny area, who boasted, that he would reign over his people alone and without the help of other gods. Could he not see that that would lead to tyrannical despotism? The first signs were already there. This woman before him was Yahwe's first victim.   
Gingerly Set unclasped his red cloak from his shoulders and handed it to her.  
"Here, for the harsh winds. If you are willing, I can give you better suiting clothes at my tower."  
Lilith's gaze weighted heavily on his face and his outstretched hand with the cloth in it.  
"Why? Do you pity me?"  
Her words were harsh as the desert sand under his feet. And he had to suppress a grin at her shrewdness.  
"No, strong one. I don't pity you. I see your shining Ka, I see the well of your Heka. You are strong and beautiful as these deserts. I want to nourish you and show you ways to expand your knowledge, I want you to outshine even the brightest jewel glittering in all of Egypt. I am after all the god of foreigners, and what god would I be, if I didn't offer one of my own hospitality and sanctuary?"   
It seemed like an eternity, in which Lilith dissected his words and mulled them over. At last, she nodded once and snatched the cloak out of his hands. And that was that.  
He had brought her home, fortunately, Nephthys wasn't at his tower that much, that she had any reason to complain. But nonetheless, it didn't take long for the gossip to start. One council meeting later, and he had justified his decision and made it official. He was the god of the deserts and foreign lands, and Lilith was of both, so she was clearly in his domain and his to do with, as he pleased. One of the other gods could argue his reasoning, and she became a permanent fixture in his household. And he had kept his promise. He showed her the ways of magic, made her Heka stronger and gave her access to many scrolls and tablets. Not one part of her education did he leave out. He nourished her mind, her Ka and her body. He even drew out her carnal desire and together they found a way for her to take her pleasure without compromising her ideals, and she loved it. So much so, that not long after that, she bore him one child, a beautiful daughter. Satech was the light of his life. From her soft red hair with white streaks to her dark red eyes and her slightly paler skin, she was the perfect mixture of them both. Her Ka was strong, and as she grew, so did her magic. Set had an avid learner at his hands and he would teach her all the spells and potions, he knew. But not only that, but he would also train her in different kinds of weapons and fighting styles, for she was not only the daughter of a mighty magician but also a mighty warrior. It soon became apparent, that she favoured the Khopesh, the traditional Egyptian sickle-sword. To her coming of age ceremony, he gifted her with one of the finest blades in all of the two lands, a blade with a wicked curve, glinting sharply in the hot sun, and a hilt wrapped with dark stained fine leather for a better grip. Carved into the metal and inlaid with Elektron, gold and lapis lazuli were protection spells and curses against her enemies, that gave the blade some power on its own. Her eyes grew wide at this splendor and her hands closed reverent around the hilt. Her eyes fluttered shut and she exhaled one slow breath. Unseeing and guided by an unseen force, she swung the sword for a few trial swings, then sheathed it again and flung her arms around her father's neck.   
"Thank you father, this is the best present a daughter could wish for. It will be the crown jewel in my collection." Set knew, that she had seen this collection in a flash of premonitial foresight, as her skin touched the blade. The wish to grow this collection was the reason, Satech began to travel all over the known world. She wandered the lands and collected not only weapons but also companions and friends. In Greece she found like-minded youths in Athena and Ares, his strong drive for war and bloodshed tempered by her strategic mind, also their brother Dionysos, a strange young man, plagued by spells of insanity and terrible visions, he tried to suppress with alcohol, parties, and theater. She even hunted with the great huntress Artemis and shared her groves with nymphs and wild deer. As Greece had lost its novelty, Satech wandered farther east, in the lands of Persia and at last India. She saw the mighty Ahura Mazda and his eternal fight against his brother and other half Angra Mainyu. In India she found different gods, ones like Shiva with blue skin, sitting atop of mountains, creators and destroyers alike. Other had also heads of animals instead of human faces like she knew from her home, but Ganesh was different in his jovialness and joyful celebration of life and new beginnings. She wandered through the forests and fields and came at last to a clearing full of soot and ashes. Half burned wood lay strewn about and strange lean man smeared with ashes from the burning grounds sat with skulls full of red viscous liquid on piles of bones and even more skulls. They sang mantras in high breathless voices and pleasured themselves while the drank from their skull cups, red liquid dripping from the corners of their mouths. Others ate the raw flesh of rabid animals, that gnawed themselves on the limbs of their devourers. It was one beautiful scene of obscenities and the eternal cycle of prey and hunter, devourer and devoured. In midst of all that stood one woman, black-skinned, with long flowing and tussled black hair, red eyes, brimming with the blood of her victims. Four arms rose out of her shoulders and a skirt of bloodied and hacked of arms encircled her hips. A long garland with the skulls and heads of other victims adorned her nacked chest. She stood shameless and preening in a deep puddle of blood and gore, her hands still clutching weapons of murder and destruction. Her head swayed with the singing of her worshippers and ever so often her bloody tongue would wet her glistening red lips. Satech had only one word for that magnificent form: gorgeous.   
Gingerly she stepped over the broken bodies strewn about the ash-covered grounds and the rests of funeral pyres and crept ever closer to the goddess amidst all that slaughter. She was but a few feet away, as she saw one of the worshippers coming down from one of the skull hills and prostrating himself before his goddess. Her red eyes studied his form and erect cock and with a nod, she sank gracefully onto him, fucking him in a brutal pace right there in the mud. Satech watched that absurd scene with wide eyes. She had seen many strange rituals in her travels and had even participated in one or two of these greek orgies, but that was just strange. The brutality, the fanatism of the men, the nonchalance of the woman. All of it seemed so very strange in her eyes. And it would get even stranger, then in the moment of the man's climax, the form of the goddess flickered for but one second and showed a young fresh maiden, just recently flowered, with fresh and healthy skin, rosy lips, deep brown eyes, and lovely perky breasts. Tenderly this young maiden kissed the forehead of her lover and decapitated him with one swing of her black arms and the wicked gleam of her curved blade. The form of the woman was once again that if the black goddess of destruction. There she sat, with widespread legs, still mounted on the corpse, still fucking him. Her hands grabbed the severed head and greedily she drank his sluggishly gushing blood. After nothing was left, her sharp and pointy teeth began to gnaw at the flesh of his neck and she began to yank chunks of raw meat from it. Swallowing it down, mouthful after mouthful, until she had only a wet glistening skull left, which she tossed carelessly behind her. And still, she fucked herself on the corpse. The singing had picked up its pace, drawing higher and higher, the pace becoming neer feverishly and lastly culminating in a high note and her primal cry, as she came right there on the corpse in the mud, surrounded by bloodshed and bones. Panting the goddess slipped from the cold body underneath her and flopped onto the dry ground next to her. With the slowing of her breath, the scene began to flicker and to fade, as if taken by a dense fog or mist, until only the woman remained on the now dry ground. No more skull hills, no more singing men, no more blood or corpses. Only one naked black-skinned woman with four arms, red eyes, and black hair. Satech pinched her right arm. Ouch, that hurt, so she must be awake. What kind of magic was this then? The woman before her was undeniable a goddess, but what had she just witnessed?  
Nervously and still a little shell shocked, Satch sank to the dry ground a few feet from the resting woman and cleared her throat. The woman's head jerked up and her eyes found the young woman, dressed in travelers' clothes sitting cross-legged beside her.  
"Who are you?"  
The voice of the goddess was rough and deep as if she drank regularly and smoke those water pipes, Satech had partaken of in Persia.   
"My name is Satech, oh mighty devourer of men. I'm hailing from a land far to the west of here. And what are you called, oh bloodied one?"  
The goddess's grin was sharp and showed more of her pointed teeth than necessary.  
"My name is Kali. I am the goddess of creation and destruction, the one dancing on men and gods. But also the great mother, protector of my beloved Bharat. I am the young maiden lover and the terrible devourer at the end of times. I am all and nothing, I am Brahman." Her form flickered with every title and Satech saw the bloody crazed vision from before, a woman with ten arms and a benign expression, the young maiden and at last, the woman shifting from one form to the other and back again faster than light, changing her shape, size and sex in between, until only the one form remained, the woman she had seen lying next to her.   
"You are indeed mighty, many formed one. Could I trouble you with one request?"  
Kali's left eyebrow twitched upwards, and she changed her position from lying o the ground to sitting face to face with her visitor. With a gesture, she bade the other woman to continue.  
"Well you see, I'm on a quest to complete my collection of different kinds of weapons from all the parts of the known world." With a small gesture of her right hand, Satech painted a shimmering fissure in the air and put her arm through it. Behind that small opening lay her personal storing space in the un-space between the threads of this world. Her mother had shown her this neat trick for never losing any part of her equipment ever again. She pulled at her heavy sack with the spoils of her travels and jerked it into her lap, the metal clanked against each other and she spilled the contents of the linen sack onto the ground between them.   
Kali's eyes grew wide at the sight before her. Dozens upon dozens of blades and wooden weapons of all kinds and styles lay there on the ground.   
"I know, I'm still missing a few unique weapons. So would you be so kind, as to help me complete my collection?" Satech ended her request with a sheepishly outstretched hand in Kali's direction.   
The goddess feasted her eyes still speechless on the instruments of death and destruction right before her, as the slender but calloused hand was thrust in her field of vision.  
She eyeballed the young woman with her red and white streaked hair and dark red eyes with her own eyes hooded. Slowly a warm grin formed at her lips and she clasped the hand in two of her own.   
"Yes, I will help you. I will show you our weapons and I will travel with you through my land. But I want to hear all your stories. And you have to tell me about the land, you call home."  
After that, the two women became nearly inseparable. Kali showed Satech the veil, Maya, as she called it, the illusion the gods spun or danced into reality. That had been the mist or fog, Satech had seen at their first meeting. Everything was Maya, Kali explained, even the gods fell victim to the illusions of the world. Maya was here and if you lived, you lived in Maya. Only humans could try to see behind it, maybe even leave their eternal cycle of death and rebirth, that also held the gods in its claws. But as a god, one did not want to leave Maya or Samsara behind. The gods lived their lives in the illusion of this reality and played their own games in and with it. This philosophy was so different and mind-bending, that even years living and traveling with Kali did not illuminate its teachings. It differed vastly from the principles of order and chaos, Ma'at and Isefet, that Satech had grown up with, and that were the foundation for her understanding of the world and the people in it. But she still loved her debates and conversations with Kali and her brothers and sisters like Shiva, Vishnu, Lakshmi or Ganesh.   
Satechs weapons collection grew and grew, and as the time flew by, she only had three pieces left to find, then two, then one and one day, her quest was complete. As she put the last weapon, a beautiful flame dagger made out of rippling black steel, into her un-space, her heart grew heavy with homesickness. She wanted to return to the black soil of her youth and her loving mother and father. She had missed them so much on her travels, but she had to steel her heart against the stabbing pain. It had been a divine quest, a mission she had to undertake, destiny had called her and if she had not answered, something terrible would have happened to the two lands and her family.   
And so with a heavy heart, she faced her companion, who had no idea about the heavy thoughts that plagued her friend. Satech took Kalis four hands in her two and looked deep into the ruby eyes of her friend.  
"My dear Kali, my loving friend, and steadfast travel companion. My quest is done, at last. I have finished this divine search, heaped on my shoulders through a vision on the day of my coming of age. Now I must return to my home. My heart is heavy with homesickness and love for my parents. I long to see their faces again and to press them against me. But it is not with a light heart, that I have to leave you behind. You have grown dear to me, my beautiful."   
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them furiously away, that Kali mistook her not for a weakly young maiden. But her friend had seen her shining eyes and even her heart was not made out of stone. She also had grown fond of the strange young woman from a faraway land. They had traveled together for so long, had shared rooms, meals and even beds from time to time if no other sleeping arrangement was to be made. But never had they told each other about the blooming feelings in their heart of hearts. Two of Kali's hands slipped out of Satechs grasp and cupped her face tenderly.  
"Oh sweetling, then why leave me behind at all. I will come with you, to your black land and its glittering river. I want to see the temples and deserts for myself. I only know them through your words, but a poet you are not dearest. Take me with you. I want to learn more of your Heka from your father, and maybe show him some of my strengthening rituals, he may find them useful in his battles."  
Kali's smoky voice was earnest and full of longing to stay at the side of her dear friend.   
Satech mulled her words over and then she nodded.  
"Yes, I will take you with me. But before I can do that, I have to tell or better show you something. If you can't accept that, I won't take you."  
Her hands dropped Kali's black ones and cupped her face, mirroring Kali's gesture. With determination glittering in her eyes, she lowered her lips to the goddesses and sealed them with a soft kiss. Kali's unoccupied hands flew to Satech's hips and all four of her hands pulled the pliant body closer to her as she deepened the kiss into something downright dirty.   
Panting Satech pressed her forehead against Kali's and a wry smirk tucked at the corners of her mouth.  
"Well, my father is going to be surprised for sure, when we return." Their following laughter echoed in the small cave long after they had left.  
And return they did. Set and Lilith welcomed their daughter and her lover with open arms. And why would they not? Kali was a strong consort for their only child and she had a crafty mind too. The two women settled into their own corner of the tower and quickly became a fixture in their lives. Set taught Kali some new magic she did not know yet, and in return, she showed him some rituals and other ceremonies to enhance his own strength or power. All in all, it was a beneficial relationship for all of them. Well not exactly all of them, because Nephthys wrinkled her nose at the new woman and her relationship with the bastard child, as she used to call Satech. She never liked Lilith and liked her daughter even less. In her heart of hearts she resented the two of them, for, in her mind, Lilith stole the seed of her husband, so that she would never become pregnant by him and contributed to her shame of being barren. Satech was the reason, she sought out Osiris in the first place. And now came this abomination with another woman at her coattails. They kissed each other and lay with each other, as wife and husband should. What a travesty. She would no longer spend any unnecessary moment in the black tower. 

At the insistent shaking of his arm, Set's mind freed itself from the memories of the past and he returned to the here and now, where his consort looked with a worried gaze in his stormy eyes.  
"I had thought, I lost you for a moment there, my beloved."  
Set shook his head.  
"No dearest one. I just needed those fond memories to draw new energy from and to ban my recent losses far back into the dusty corners of my mind."  
He kissed her temple and scooted out of his bed.  
"I will do, as you suggested. I will seek those, who have been wronged by the others and I will make them my allies."

But his plan needed time. For now, he would play the scolded fool, who tried to redeem himself in the eyes of the others. He would fulfill his duties and say naught but a word against any or all of the japes and jokes. He would still open his doors to his wife and would board dutifull every evening Ra's barge. Weeks upon weeks he played the repentant sinner, that had seen the errors of his ways. One after the other, the other gods stopped with their jabs and ridicule. They seemed to forget his unsavory behavior in favor of the newest gossip or tall tale of a war or conquest of the young pharaoh. It was, has he had planned it. Under his meek mask, he plotted and schemed and searched for potential allies. And he found one, in the most unlikely of places.  
One morning, as he returned from his nightly duties, he still pondered his past fight against the great serpent, as the clouded darkness fell from his eyes as if it had been scales. The great serpent, that was the answer to his question. Apep would be an excellent ally. But how could he convince his enemy of so many years? He had hacked and pierced the serpent every night for centuries upon centuries. How would Apep forgive him or even consider joining him in his plot for revenge? There was only one way, that he could see. He had to talk to the great serpent. But not at night, no those hours were reserved for the puppet theater of Ra. No, he had to traverse the Duat in the waking hours of the day. He had to seek out the resting serpent and convincing him, that joining forces was the only way to get what he wanted. Even if Set shuddered at the idea of Apep devouring the whole world. But he had at least to promise the serpent its greatest wish, had he not?  
And so he waited a few more days for the celebration of the longest day of the year. Everybody would be busy, and his possible time in the Duat would be the longest, for he did not know, where the great serpent slept in the daylight hours. He only knew his hunting ground in the hours of the night, when he would come after Ra. And so, with the first rays of the sun, he made his way back down into the underworld, where he had traveled the whole night.  
But he could not enter the Duat the way he exited it. No, he had to start at the beginning. The gate to the Duat lay at the western horizon, where the sun descended every evening from its path through the heavens. The dark yawning portal was framed by high pillars, symbolizing the sycamore tree, the tree of the Lady of the western lands. Flickering flame bowls lined the way into the first pylon that housed the court of the dead. It was there, where Anubis did his work as weigher of hearts. He would control the scales, upon which the heart of the dead was weighed against the feather of Ma'at. The ones with too heavy hearts could not go forward, and their hearts would be eaten by Ammit the great devourer of souls. Her bestial form guarded the next hours, the Wernes or Field of Reeds, where the just souls of the dead lived their peaceful afterlife. But the court was made for men only. The god could not walk through the giant opening of the pylon and take the same way into the nightly hours as the humans did. No, he had to be a little bit more crafty than that. Looking around for a shadowy corner, Set pressed himself against the grey stone of the pylons and scanned with alert eyes the patrolling guards. Those beings were made in the weigher's image, solders with dark skin, golden hieroglyphic markings on their skin, protection spells probably and jackal heads. The warrior of Anubis, his sentries, and protectors and guards of the first hour. They kept the order in the long lines of the dead, waiting for their weighing ceremony, they also would chastise any unruly soul, that had trouble in mind or would even chase those who broke the line, because they knew, their hearts would be too heavy. Anubis' guard dogs were gifted with keen senses to do their duty well, so Set had to fool them and fool them well if he wanted to creep by them. A few choice words and a swirling gesture with his fingers later, some of the shadows around him slid to him and surrounded his body with a dark obfuscating sheen. If he walked slowly and stayed mostly in the shadows, he would be undetectable, because this shadow veil did not only block sight but all other senses too. But he could not draw attention to himself through loud or unnecessary gestures or blatant exposure to the flickering light.   
And so Set crept unseen through the weighing halls, past the waiting souls and the scales themselves, past Anubis, who was in the process to adjust the weight on the big golden scale, past Ammit, who was dozen on the ground and past even Osiris and Thoth, who presided over the ceremony. Not one of them, may it be the humans, the guards or even the gods detected the presence of the intruder. But it still was nerve recking for the god of chaos. He held his breath until he was past the gate of the second hour, a big clunky thing made out of wood and reed, signifying his passing into Wernes and the resting place of all the good souls. The endless chatter of the Ba-birds greeted him here and it would accompany him through this and the next hour, for the birds lived among the more human-looking souls of the dead. The Ba's were the forms of those dead, who still had something to return to in the living world, a mummy maybe or regular offerings made at their graves. They circled over him, roosted atop of high silos or granary and flocked together over the breweries or wine presses. In addition to the neverending chatter of the Ba's, the fields of reed were alive with all the souls of the dead in their human form. They worked and slept, laughed and fucked, ate and drank. In short, they did everything, they would have done in life. Wernes was also the place, where the human pharaohs made their eternal resting place, surrounding Osiris' own palace in the center of the two hours.   
Set knew he would not find Apep there, it was way too noisy for the probably sleeping serpent and far too close to the king of the Duat for the comfort of one chaos entity. So he pushed on into the sands of Sokar. This desert island held the tomb of Osiris underneath it in a fiery lake, and there was it, in the seventh hour, that Apep would chase Ra's barge through the murky waters of the Duat. But where would the serpent make its lair? Not in the fires of the lake, too close by Osiris' final resting place. But also not in the waters behind the seventh hour. Or was that what the serpent wanted him to think? There was no point in this kind of conjecture. He came prepared. With some small flicks of his fingers and some softly spoken words, a magical fire mote appeared before him. This was the visual representation of a tracking spell, he had covertly put on Apep at their last fight the past night. With a final magic laced breath, the little mote began to zip before his eyes and like a dog, searched for a scent. The mote fluttered aimlessly through the cave and seemed to sniff fruitlessly at the placid waters. But Set gave it time to find the right track and his patience was rewarded not long after that. The mote shot forward to a rocky mass, covering the eastern horizon of the desert island. Set followed in his long strides, that ate the miles under his feet in no time. At the mountain range, that towered over him and blocked his view of the black star dotted sky of the underworld over him nearly completely, the mote vanished into a small crack, nearly invisible to the naked eye. With a heavy sigh, Set followed it. The mote, now his only illumination in the black bowels of these mountains, led him through a well-smoothed tunnel of some sorts burrowing deeper and deeper into the ground. By his calculations, his must-have traveled way deeper than even Osiris' tomb and the fire lake. But still deeper it went. The path twisted and turned, meandered through the earth like a demented mole. Its sinuous curves tricked the eye into believing, the path would lead up when it led down or vice vera. Set had lost every ounce of orientation. Wherever this tunnel would lead him, he had no choice but to follow it. He knew his journey was near its end, as he saw reflections of cold glinting light in the curves of the tunnel before him. Not long after that, his path spat him into a great cave. It was a huge stone dome, its ceiling covered with stalactites, and bioluminescent fungi. Blue, green and purple hues glittered from the underground flora and gave the chamber a diffuse sort of illumination. The center of the large cavern was filled with a massive body, covered in black shiny scales. The great world serpent lay there, fast asleep. Probably tired from its nighty battles with Set. The god saw the golden ichor, the blood of the gods, covering the floor of the rocky ground, but he could see none of the cuts, he had driven into the massive body of his adversary. Gingerly Set stepped closer to the serpent and searched his mind for a way to begin their conversation, as a low hissing voice interrupted his thoughts.   
"Butcher, is it not enough for you, to wound me in the hours of the night? Is your bloodlust this great, that you seek me out even in the hours of the day and disturb my sleep? Or did my brother send you, to do his dirty work and to wipe me once and for all from the face of this world?"  
The voice sounded tired, even resigned and Set felt the weight of the years of this great being.   
He cleared his throat and trusted his quick tongue to begin the conversation, even if he still had no concrete plan.  
"Mighty serpent, world encircler. I am not here to wound you further or to shed more of the golden blood, that flows through both our veins. I am here because I want to propose a truce between us. You and I, we are the same, and we should not fight each other, but work together."  
At this, the great serpent opened its large eyes and looked with those fiery sickly red eyes upon the intruder into its nest. His voice lost nothing of its hissing quality, but poison and malice crept into it, as he answered.  
"We are not the same, you and I, god of deserts and lies. How could we? You are a son of the earth and the sky, you live amongst your siblings, you may squabble with them, but they accept you, they need you. You are a part of the Ma'at. You have a purpose. Wherein I am but an afterthought, born out of Ra's shed umbilical cord. Forgotten and cast away. I am the part, nobody wanted. I am that, what was left from Ra's birth out of nothingness. I am the part that connected him to the non-existent, from whence he came. I am the part that wants to drag him back down into the sweet oblivion. I long for the sweet warm embrace of nothing. I did not want to leave, but he dragged me into the light and cold air of existence, and then he cut me off and discarded me. Every breath I take is pain, every moment existing here brings nothing but suffering for me. Your spear pierces me every night, your blade cuts me into thousand pieces, but nothing compares to the agony I endure every living moment of my existence, parted from the loving embrace of my home. So don't tell me, that we are the same. And now, leave."  
The last words were a thunderous tortured scream, bouncing around the cave and rattling the stalactites above them.   
To say, Set was shocked, was an understatement. He had heard rumors about the connection between Ra and Apep but never had he even considered, that they were brothers or even born out of one and the same act of crawling into existence. The raw emotions he had heard in the words of the serpent, tucked at his heart. He had come here to gain an ally with honeyed words and underhand tactics, but he had found a tortured creature, hating its own existence more than that of the world around it. Maybe if he could soothe the creature's pain, it would listen to his offer.   
With both hands outstretched in front of him in the universal gesture of peace, he took a few more steps to the great snout of the beast.   
"I may have been too hasty in my judgment your situation, my lord. I understand now. But I offer you this: I will find a way to soothe your pain. You needn't fling yourself night after night at your other half. I will help you and together we will find a way to return you to your home. I promise." Set's hands began to glow softly with his Heka and he touched the nose of the god before him. He knew, if Apep wanted to kill him, he had to only open his mouth and swallow him whole. But he had seen the pain and longing in the other's eyes. He knew that feeling. He had felt it himself. So maybe he had been wrong to assume that they were the same, but he had been right also.   
The magic, flowing from a well deep inside him, obeyed his wish without incantations or spells. He wanted to heal the pain and ease some of the suffering Apep had endured in his life. An atypical use for his mostly battle focused magic. But his will was strong and he was confident, that he could take at least a little pain away.   
Like a golden tidal wave, the magic flowed through the long muscled body of the serpent. It felt warm and brought back memories of the nothingness, where he had dwelled before his birth into this world. The magic took the sting of existence away and for the first time in eons, Apep felt, as if he could breath easy. Nothing dragged him down, everything felt light and easy, like floating in the womb of darkness. His eyes shed crystalline tears of joy and all thoughts of devouring this insolent little god fled his mind. He felt whole. The golden light flowing from Set's hands dimmed and he let go of the serpent. That kind of raw magic had cost him a great deal of his constitution and had depleted his magic levels considerably. But it had been worth the nearly drugged expression, Apep wore on his serpentine face. The flow of magic from the god subsided, but this warm feeling still persisted throughout the long body of the chaos serpent. Muted, but still there. He could feel the aches of the world again, but he could now shoulder them better, for he knew, he needn't wait for the eternal oblivion to feel the warmth of his home again. The serpent looked with a newfound admiration at the panting god before him. He saw the draining effect on Set, but he also knew, that the god was powerful and that the effect would not linger too long.   
"Now that you have shown me, what you could do for me, mighty sorcerer, what is it, that you ask of me?"  
"As I have said before, I propose, that we work together instead of against each other. I could weave a powerful illusion of your attacks every night so that you would not have to fight against Ra. He would be none the wiser, but no suspicion would arise from your absence. You could stay here or if you like, you could relocate to my humble abode in the black tower. I have enough room there, and you would be able to find a suitable resting place. From there we would plan, how to best oust the current ruling court from their position and how to establish a new order without prejudice and with equal rights for all gods and goddesses. Are we not the land of the Ma'at? And is it not just, that all should be seen as a part of that and not some of us locked away and branded as evil and of Isefet, only because we are different than the others?"  
Set saw, that his words took root in the mind of the other god. His magic had helped of course. But he had also meant every word he had said. Before he came down to Apep's lair, he had no concrete plan, of what he wanted to do with his new ally. He only knew that he needed more gods at his side. But as he said the words, their truth sang to him. That was, what he had wanted all along.   
Apep nodded slowly, the mighty head of the serpent swinging through the air.   
"I will follow you to your tower. Weave your great illusion, so I can leave this wretched place behind."   
Set's heart lept at those words. He had done it. His first ally. The illusion spell he had promised Apep would drain him even more and he would need the help of the serpent to pull it off. Hopefully, that was not a dealbreaker for the old god.  
"Good, but I will need your help, dark one. My magic reserves are low, and the spell requires some part of truth in it, to work best. I would need to borrow some of your magic and a part of your Ka too."  
Set's request was not so far fetched. Apep may not have been a mighty sorcerer, but even he knew how the Heka worked, and that a spell of this magnitude required some sacrifice from the caster and the conduit. Instead of an answer he lowers his head and extended his fangs towards his own skin. Carefully he plucked three of his midnight black scales from his flanks and deposited them into Set's outstretched hands, then he lowered his head even more, so his eyes were on the same level as the other god's.   
"Is this enough?"  
Set stared at the big scales in his hands, that were the size of one of those big full-body shields and nodded perplexed. he could feel the chaos energy wafting off of them, the urge of unmaking every particle of the existence. They were a potent ingredient for his spell for sure. He placed them on the ground between him and the great serpent and sank to his knees. His left hand hovered over the scales and his right touched again the nose of the old god. So he began the largest spell he had ever weaved. His voice swelled and waned in the humid space between their bodies, reciting old words and spells, in a language, he did not know on a conscious level but felt in his bones. What he tried to do here, was changing the very fabric of their reality, changing the loom of fate and threading new strands into it. Under his hands, the scales pulsated with his undulating voice and they began to bubble and buckle under the strain of magical energy that was changing them. Out of their sizzling surface rose black smoke laced with golden threads, that weaved itself to a shadow twin of the serpent lying before him. The shadow twin, a mixture between Apep's Shuyet and his Ka, laid itself over the physical body of the old god and sank into his flesh, becoming one with him. Sweat pearled all over Set's skin and his muscles strained against the surges of magical energies flowing between him and the other lord of chaos. The part of him, that relished in the chaos his planes and schemes wrought, basked in the feeling of touching something akin to him, but far older and potent than his own darkness. The other part in him, the one who lived in the Ma'at nearly cringed from the energy of all-consuming un-matter and un-making, that flowed from the ancient beast into him and back again. But he held on. He had to keep the spell going, it was nearly finished. His voice rose and with it, the Shuyet-Ka tore itself out of Apep and took some of his own Ka with it. A cry born of pain and loss followed it and bounced thousandfull around the cavern. That was the sacrifice, the serpent had to make for his freedom. With one last primal roar of his spell, the twin snapped the last threads that connected it to the physical body of Apep and hovered completely free over the exhausted pair. The nearly see-through shadow being coalesced into a fully physical form und plunged from the ceiling down on the panting gods. Set as the conductor of the spell, had lost the most to it. His magic was truly depleted, and his legs could not support him any longer. He slipped from his kneeling position to the side and lay shivering and violently twitching absolutely helpless on the ground. Apep had fared a little better. He still had some energy left and so he shifted his form with one thought and hoisted Set's useless body up in his newly formed arms. His strong tail slithered fast over the ground to a small alcove to protect them from the falling body of his double, that crashed only seconds later unto the ground of the cave, shaking the ground and finally knocking some of the stalactites loose. Set tried to open his heavy eyelids, but there could have been lead weighs bound to them, so heavy were they. After a few minutes, he had opened them at last and only now realized the position he was in. He had never seen Apep in any other form then that of a great serpent with midnight black scales poison dripping fangs and his fiery sickly red eyes. Now he looked into those same eyes, but a completly different body. He was held aloft by two strong, but not overly muscular arms, their skin black with a shimmering scale pattern, those arms were attached to humanoid shoulders and an equally humanoid upper body in a dusty grey colour, with three white spots at his left flank. The resemblance with a humanoid body ended at the hips, where the grey flesh darkened again to a midnight black and instead of legs, a strong and flexible snake body spilled out onto the ground. On the shoulders sat a human head with a narrow face, small lips, an unnaturally wide grin, slanting eyes, and pointy ears. The nose was long and slender and from time to time a forked tongue flicked out to taste the air. Short tussled black hair completed the whole picture.  
"Come, let's leave my shadow twin to his purpose. We need to get to your tower, where you can rest."  
Apep slithered with Set in his arms to one of the many cracks in the cave wall and wriggled them both through a small passage, that opened up to a beautiful afternoon in the mountain ranges flanking the Nile. The air was warm, but not too hot, the rays of sunlight basked the surrounding landscape in a warm light without burning their back to hard and the air smelled of flowers and wet earth.   
"How..."  
Apep chuckled at the speechlessness of his companion.  
"How did we come here? How did I change my form? Well you see, I am a god, after all, not bound to any one form. I never saw the need to show it to any of you. Not even my brother knows. And how we came here? There are secret passageways from and into the Duat, one has only to look and discover them. The underworld was my home for eons, I searched every nook and cranny, knew every stone and reed stalk. When I wanted some change in my scenery, I came here, disguised mostly, with a glamour over the lower half of my body and my less than humanly features. I traveled through the two lands, sowed a little chaos, but also lived and shared space with the humans."  
Still not entirely sure about the truth of Apep's story, Set had to at least take him by his word. He saw the proof of his abilities right in front of him. What did it matter, if Apep had truely walked the black land or lived with humans? What mattered was this unknown form, his shadow twin fulfilling his duty from now on and the serpent's freedom.   
With one last deep breath, Apep addressed the god in his arms again.  
"Now where to, oh mighty lord of the desert?"  
Set described the fastest way to his tower and of they went. Apep was fast in this form, and so it was not mere hours later, that they stood before the black double doors of Set's tower. On the doors glittered many protection spells and curses against intruders in golden hieroglyphs, that barred the serpent god the way inside. The journey back into the desert had given back a little bit of Set's power, and so he called out to his consort and daughter, both rushing out of the opening portal, at the moment, as Apep slid him to his own feet, where he now stood, with only a small shaking of his legs, but still clutching at the others' shoulder for support. Both women rushed to him and fussed over his still recovering form, but he shooed them away.   
"I know, how I look. Bring me my amulets and lend me some of your own Heka, if you will, my loves." Satech vanished fast like the desert wind itself back into the shadowy halls of the tower, to fetch the amulets. Meanwhile, Lilith put her hands over his and gazed deep into his stormy eyes.   
"You did it."  
It was not a question. She saw the strands of his golden Heka connecting him to the stranger behind him. The humanoid serpent had the same darkness inside of it, that she knew from her beloved. He had found his first ally and had brought him here. But at what cost. It would take weeks upon weeks until all his magic returned to him, and with his nightly duties, it would take even longer. But she and her daughter would do everything in their power to help his recovery. Gasping Satech slid to a halt right next to her, her cupped hands overflowing with little trinkets, charms, and amulets. All of them had some modicum of power stored in them. They stripped Set's clothes right there outside of his gates and pressed the charms to his skin, Satech would affix one with a simple spell and Lilith would wrap it and the body beneath with a magical linen cloth. at the end of their impromptu first aid session, he looked more like a mummy than a living being. But with one more spell from Lilith, all bandages faded from view and became invisible to the naked eye of everybody else safe the ones, who knew they were there in the first place. Then she took Set's left hand, while Satech took his right. Both women closed their eyes and even Apep could see golden clouds emerging from them and little beads of golden energy trickling from them through their hands into Set. After nearly half an hour of this transfusion, both women dropped Set's hands simultaneous and opened their eyes back up. It had worked. Set's eyes were no longer a dull grey but shone again with the mighty force of a crackling thunderstorm and his limbs had again enough strength, to bear his full weight. He cracked his neck from left to right and back again and an audible popping sound followed, as his bones realigned themselves in their proper order again.   
"Now to deal with the next little problem."  
His eyes roamed over the spells on his portal until he found the one guarding against Isefet. He lifted his hands and began again a monotonous melody. His hands whirled through the air like those of a conductor and he rearranged the symbols and words of the spells so that Apep would gain entry to his tower. He also mounted Apep's Ren next to those of his, his wife's, his consort's and his daughter's. Now the portal would always know his ally and grant him entry.   
The spell was normally not very taxing, but he wheezed, as he finished the last gesture and the door glowed with its new additions. He gestured inside.  
"Go on, look for a suitable quarter and make yourself at home. Lilith and Satech will answer all your questions and will show you all that you need."  
With one look toward the bloodshot sky, he whirled around and summoned his weapons.  
"I have a duty to fulfill. let's see how well my spell holds up."

The illusion held up. Night after night Set battled the shadow twin and Ra never saw the difference. His recovery took its time, as he taxed himself night after night. Slowly but surely he regained his natural strength, and week after week Lilith would loosen some of the amulets from his body. They were useless trinkets now, totally depleted of their original magic, but Satech gathered them all and deposited them back into his vaults. You might still need them, she told him one evening, winking and laughing at his sour face.   
His life went on and one day he woke up and felt strong again. His limbs brimmed with energy and his Heka danced over his fingertips. His energetic triumphant cry ran like a bolt of crackling lightning through the skies and crashed as a thunderous roar over the desert, bouncing off the black stone of his tower, vibrating in shockwaves through the ground.   
Today was the day, the next phase of his plan would begin. He had held many councils of war with Apep and both agreed, that they needed more gods on their sides. But where should they look? Who had been equally wronged as themselves? Most of those meetings devolved rather fast into a telling and retelling grievances with Ra and the other of the great court, but at one instance, Set had told the story of his betrayal and the following dishonoring through his wife. Apep's ears had perked up and his mouth stretched into a wide grin.  
"There you have it, your next ally."  
"Are you mad, never again will I let this viper near me!" had been Set's livid roaring answer to Apep's proposal.  
"Not this silly woman, oh slow one. The boy."  
Set's eyebrows rose in bewilderment and he stared at the serpentine god in front of him.   
"Anubis? This blemish on my honour? This diligent boy scout? This nerd?"  
He was right to call the jackal-headed god of the dead those names. Anubis never sought out the company of the other gods, he did not like to feast with them or even drink with them. He only attended the ceremonies and festivals the council order his participation in. He fulfilled his duties in the underworld diligently and with a precision that belied anything other than honour and a spotless work attitude. His free time he often spent in the vast libraries of the underworld or Thoth's palace and there he submerged himself in ancient texts, old rituals or anything else he could get his hands on. He never wandered out into the human world or even intermixed with them. He did not fight or brawl with the others and he had never lifted his blade or any other weapon or smeared them with the blood of his enemies.   
"You should not be that quick in judging the boy. I have seen him during my time in the Duat. His meek facade hides a ravenous beast. Why do you think he slinks into the shadows and shies from the company of others? Why does he never take up a blade or wet it with the lifeblood of another? I think he is afraid. Afraid of the darkness, lurking in his core. The same bloodlust that flows through our veins also flows through his, it’s in his nature. He was conceived from the desire for revenge, from the betrayal of sacred vows and the violation of the divine will. His heart too longs for death and destruction. I say to you, his controlled and unassuming nature is just a mask not only skin deep. He tries desperately to hold his urges under control. There are even some rooms in his palaces, where he ventures no longer. Broken furniture, cracked walls, claw marks at the walls and scorch marks at the ceilings. I have heard his rage-fuelled rampages. They are few and far between, but they are there."  
Apep's description of the young god painted a picture Set had never considered before. He had only thought of Anubis in those terms he had thrown at Apep before, and he knew, that that was the widespread consensus between the gods of the nature of the weigher of hearts. Weak, unassuming, hard working, anti-social and a recluse. He had never thought about the divine fire lurking underneath. Now that the picture of destroyed rooms and rage-filled rampages appeared next to the one of his calm facade and introvert demeanor, he had to know for himself if it was true. If there really was a ravenous beast hiding inside that slender black body, he needed this dark thing at his side.  
But before he could begin with his plan of dragging Anubis down into the darkness, he needed to do one more thing. He needed to free himself from the viper at his bosom.  
He still pondered how to best summon her without instilling to much suspicion, as Lilith stepped into his room.   
"My beloved, your wife is here. She wishes to speak to you."  
Lilith's beautiful face scrunched up as if she had smelled something foul and she spat the word "wife" with as much vitriol and hatred as she was able to.  
"Well, if that is not a lucky coincident, dearest. Will you tell her, that I am coming post-haste?"  
Lilith bowed slightly and left his chamber with long but unhurried strides.   
He thought of putting on his ceremonial helmet but decided against it. He wanted her to see his face when he kicked her out.  
As he left his private quarters and followed the short corridor to his grand audience chamber, he could hear the shrill voice of Nephthys berating someone inside the tall room. As he strode into the room, pulling the curtains from the doorway to the left of his throne, he could see a raging Nephthys pointing a finger at Lilith and the serpentine form of Apep lurking in the shadows. Her screeching and shrieking attracted also the attention of Satech and Kali, who stepped through another door into the big room.  
As Nephthys saw him, she whirled in fluttering clothes in his direction and lay in him like a fury.  
"I have seen the new name on our door. Another one of your foreigners, I presume. Is our tower nothing more than a zoo for you? Do you need to boost your ego with your collection of freaks and alien beasts? This one there reaks of darkness and the void. Nothing good can come from it. What got into your head, that you hold council with such scum, but shun the company of your own blood, your brothers and sisters. and this abomination and her little pet, why did you not drown her at birth? She is a blemish on my honour, on our sacred marriage, she should never have been. You should have left her bitch of a mother in the eastern desert, where she came from. Whore, you fucked those wild and unclean animals and then plant yourself into this made nest and stole my husband's seed from his rightful wife. I curse you and your abomination of a child."  
She spat at their feet and her whole body quivered with rage and fury.  
Set's eyes had darkened ever more throughout her whole rant and bared his teeth in a loud snarl.  
"Silence you insolent woman. It is not I who should endure a tongue lashing, but you. You betrayed me, you schemed with my sister and you charmed me before the feast, so that I may not notice the something extra in my salad. You conspired with my sister, nephew, and brother to disgrace me and to embarrass me in front of the whole court. You were the first one to betray our sacred vows as you hastened to my sister's side in her search for our brother, it was your magic to that helped conceive Horus. You lay with my brother to mulct me of my rightful heir."  
His voice thundered over her and chafed her skin like a sandstorm. She had never feared him in her life, but now, she realized why he was feared by so many.  
"I strike your Ren from my gateway and speak a curse over your cut out name, so that your Shuyet may never darken my door again. You are no longer welcome here in these halls. Get out!"  
Magic crept in his voice and triggered a spell, that lay in waiting for some time. The hieroglyphs, that formed Nephthys' Ren at his door, peeled from the black stone and were ground to dust. A mighty force took hold of her body and dragged it kicking and screaming out of his halls, depositing her in front of the gates, that slammed in her face. She picked herself up, running only on rage and fumes, and thumped on the heavy doors. Every strike of her flesh on the black stone sent a lightning bolt through her body, that sizzled through her with white-hot pain. At last, did she relent and limped out of the desert.  
"Ding dong, the bitch is dead."  
Satech's crass words spun Set's head around and he prepared to chide his daughter for her uncouth language, but he shrugged only with her shoulders.  
"You know I'm right. Good riddance, it took you long enough to kick her out. Now we can have at least a little bit of peace and quiet."  
She linked her arm through one of Kali's and dragged her girlfriend back out through the door. Maybe to spar, maybe to fuck or maybe to do both. A line of thoughts, that Set did not want to follow, it was his daughter after all.  
Weary he sank on his throne and stared at the closed portal. The first step had been taken. Now how to follow up. How could he get Anubis' attention?  
He did not see the heavy glances that Lilith and Apep shared over his bowed head. In unison, both approached him, Lilith taking her seat on his left armrest and Apep slithering to a halt at his ride side.  
"Our daughter is right. it was a good thing, what you did, my beloved."  
Her slender hand carded through his red hair and petted him lovingly.  
"Yes, she really was a nuisance, my friend. With her gone, you are free to take on an equal partner."  
Set eyeballed his friend sceptically, but Apep only laughed at his scrunched up face.  
"Oh no, I am not talking about me. I am too old for this kind of companionship. I am talking about the young jackal. When you free his darkness, he will be a strong partner for you, my friend."  
Set looked back at Lilith. Again, he would take one of his own blood over her. Would she resent him for that? But his beloved only smiled at him. No signs of sadness or hurt in her glittering albino eyes.   
"Oh dearest one, I am not mad at you. I will never be mad at you for something as small as taking a new partner. You have given me my most treasured gift, our beloved daughter. That was all I ever wanted of you. I will always have love for you in my heart, as I know that you also will always have love for me in yours. Our destinies are intertwined, but I am not of this land. The golden blood of the black lands does not flow in my veins and I will never be as strong, as one of your brothers or sisters. If he is, as Apep says, I will welcome him with open arms. He will be a part of our family and I will not be as jealous or petty as your former wife was."  
Set hugged his beautiful consort and pressed a loving kiss to her lips. She was his rock. Never would he forget her kindness and understanding. He would always treasure her, come what may.


	2. The Unfolding of the Plan: Phase Two

Set and Apep had planned for a long time after he had kicked Nephthys out. They had envisioned different scenarios, rejected them, changed them and planned some more. However they looked upon the situation, they needed bait for Anubis. Something he would swallow hook, line, and sinker. Something that would give Set the opportunity to sow doubt into the god's mind. It had to be something heinous, something the other gods would judgementally tribute to him and his evil machinations. Something, that would disrupt a part of their so beloved Ma'at. But what would even interest Anubus? The only part of human life he interacted regularly with, was their deaths. So it must be something linked to the deaths of people. Something, that appeared as a riddle, as something unexplainable. Anubis loved puzzles and old riddles, so it must be something he could solve with some good old fashioned deduction. And Set must be the answer. The most obvious one, the logical one. Even Anubis had heard of his ill-gotten reputation of a black soul.   
The solution to their question came from the unlikeliest of places.  
Set had, as it was part of his routine, taken Kali for one of their magic lessons aside. As he tried to teach her one of the most basic spells for knowing what was Ma'at and what was Isefet, he fiddled with a little Ankh-charm, he wore around his neck since his adventure with Apep. Kali had major difficulties in understanding the concepts of Ma'at and Isefet, because they clashed so violently with her own belief of the world, that she could not master the easiest spells from that particular school. Therefore Set repeated their lessons of that school at regular intervals.   
Frustrated Kali's four hands struck the wooden table, she was sitting at and barred her teeth in an angry snarl.  
"It does not make sense, your Ma'at and Isefet. Why divide the Maya in those arbitrary concepts. All is one and one is all. There is no need for this dualistic shite."  
Set had heard her complaining all too often. He did not understand, why she could not see the truth. There had to be two forces in the universe, everything else made no sense at all. Everything had two sides, the evidence was all around them. Why was she too blind to see the obvious? But he was her teacher, and so he needed to keep calm.  
"Give it time. You will understand, eventually."  
Kali glowered at him until her eyes zeroed in on his fingers and the little charm therein.  
"Well, maybe I am not the only blind one here. I have heard your war council for weeks now, and you are no closer to an actual plan. But you don't see the solution lying right in front of you."  
She pointed at his charm.  
"Use this. It had magic inside of it not too long ago. Use it again as a repository for your strength. but do not fill it with your residual energy or the Heka you shed with every breath you take. Use my kind of power gathering for it. Use blood rituals and blood sacrifices done in your name. You have temples, do you not, oh mighty one? Use them, use your priests and priestesses. Let them sacrifice your choice of flesh to you, let them drain them of every last drop of blood. Use that to store magic and power in your trinkets. Your dog of the dead will come sooner than you think. This kind of ritual creates a kind of fear and terror in the souls of men, that is quite unique and unknown in these parts."  
Set had chewed over this plan for a few more days. In the meantime, he had told Apep of Kali's suggestion.  
"It could work. I am not sure if it is the right way, but it could work. It certainly is not something our brothers and sisters would consider. In their eyes, such an act is downright evil. It will destroy the lives of the very people you are sworn to protect and nourish. But it is a sacrifice of the few to help the many. If the old regime is toppled, you would be their new king. A mighty ruler, that would bring the two lands prosperity and strength to conquer all their enemies. Aren't a few lowly souls not a price worth paying for this glorious vision?"  
Apep was right, as always. If you wanted to eat something, you had to hunt it first. Survival meant bloodshed.  
His mind was set and so he walked adorned with his ceremonial armour and helmet into his largest temple in Ombos. His imposing figure would tower over every human, he deigned to speak to. Such a change in his holy rights needed to be a divine revelation.  
His priests were very diligent in their service to him. Every day they washed and perfumed his statues, brought food offerings and libations to him, and sang his holy hymns.  
The high-priest Mekh-Kalet worked as every day in the innermost sanctum of the temple of his great lord. He hummed the worldless melody of one of the Great One's hymns, as he laved the feat of the black and red statue of the great Lord of the Deserts with perfumed water. Totally absorbed in his work, nearly in a meditative state, he was startled out of his revery, as he thought he saw some movement in the deep shadows behind the stage.  
"Who is there? Who dares to defile the most holy inner sanctum of the great One, whose voice thunders over the sky?"  
His voice belied his words, as it was high and frightened. But the intruder was not malevolent. Out of the shadows emerged the inhumanly tall figure of his god. His armour a mixture of all the precious metals and stones known to men and gods. His head was this peculiar mixture of an aardvark, a donkey and a jackal. In his hands, he held his mighty Was-scepter and a papyrus scroll.  
The priest scrambled to the ground and prostrated himself before his lord. What an honour. That was certainly a good omen for the next season.  
Set's voice boomed rasping like the scraping of sand against stone or the rushing of a coming storm.  
"Rise, highpriest Mekh-Kalet, who nourishes my Ka every day with your offerings and hymns. You are a worthy servant of mine. You are very diligent in your work and you observe my divine rules and rites with the required thoroughness. It fills my heart to observe your work. But today I am not here to praise you. I am in need of your diligent hands. My rites are to be changed as I have seen fit. Here in this scroll, I have penned down the exact rites and the necessary hymns and spells to accompany them. But I will also tell you, what you and your colleagues are doing for me in the future. It is my divine vision to strengthen our beloved Kemet. Therefore we need to spill the blood of foreigners, of barbarians out of the deserts and soak our soil with it to absorb their strength into us. It is my will that you should sacrifice a foreign man each day, in addition to that each week a foreign woman and in addition to that each month a foreign child. I will gift you with an appropriate sacrificial altar to do your work on."  
With those words spoken, he handed the scroll to the priest and a block of obsidian rose with the wink of his hand out of the ground. It was fashioned from the same stone as his tower, with grooves cut into it, to gather up the spilled blood. Those channels were magically linked to a basin in his tower, where he could charge his amulets in.  
The priest's eyes bulged at the request of his god and his blatant use of such powerful magic. If a little spilled blood was the price of a strengthened Kemet, he would gladly do a butcher's work. He clutched the scroll to his heart and kept lying on the ground before his god.   
"Yes my lord. Thy will be done."  
His voice quivered with restrained religious fervor and his eyes gleamed fanatical as he kissed his lord's feet before him.  
With a darkly sardonic grin, hidden under his helmet, Set vanished in a sand devil. He knew that his order would be near impossible to fulfill. There were not that many foreigners in the prisons of Egypt, to begin with, even if one would combine them all. And if those people had died, the priest would look for new sacrifices. He could not go to war alone without the blessing of his pharaoh and even then, how would he even begin to approach this taboo topic with the king? No, he would look to the poorest of the poor and culling them for his god's pleasure. And those were the souls that would go through the gates and find Anubis. It would certainly attract his curiosity and ire.   
Pleased with his little scheme Set withdrew to his tower and waited for his plan to unfold.   
It came as he had predicted. The priests killed all the prisoners and then lacking any real alternative turned their butchers' knives against their own people. First, those living around the temple and then increasing ever so slightly their hunting ground to accompany a larger area.  
This had been going on for months now. Every day a man, then every week a woman and every month a child, precise like clockwork. First Anubis had not seen the pattern in those frightened souls, coming before him, bloodless and angst-ridden. But Day after day, seeing the same wounds, hearing the same stories, smelling the same fear, a design emerged before his eyes. After a while, he could even predict the exact hour, when another one of those poor souls would show up. They were always some of the poorest that had graced his halls, mostly good people, with the obligatory murders, robbers, and thieves sprinkled under them. But all with the same terror in their eyes. He, as the lord over the dead, should be one of the few neutral gods, but he still stood on the side of Ma'at, and those murders were the fruit of a very sick mind, bend on Isefet. In his free hours his pondered the case of those poor souls and debated with himself if he should report this to the great council or his father. But he knew, they would take this case from him and give it to somebody else, somebody better suited for this kind of work. But the dead were his domain, his responsibility. He should be the one to investigate this gruesome handiwork. But where to start? The souls had been terrorized into speechlessness. A deep gaze into their Ka and Ba only told him of their personality but not from where they came. So he monitored the situation for a few more days another one of his bloodless dead. A pious woman, wrapped in a red scarf, frightened but also with a feverish gleam of fanatism in her eyes. After he had weighed her heart, a heavier thing then his first glance had assumed, he escorted her to the portal to the second hour, where he held her back and asked her about her death.  
"Oh mighty Lord of the Dead, my death was in service to the god of my soul, the Lord of the Red Sands. His priests are searching for sacrifices in His honour and they didn't need to drag me kicking and screaming in his temples. No, I came willingly, like a lamb, being led to the slaughter. It was a great honour to die at the blades of His servants. I will be rewarded in the afterlife for my sacrifice in His name."  
Anubis dropped the bony wrist of the old woman like a hot coal. He knew that only a sick mind would devise something so wicked and cruel. But that his uncle, one of the gods defending Kemet from Isefet, would do such a sacrilegious thing, was unfathomable. Without evidence, he could not accuse his uncle before the great council. He needed to gather it for himself. Everyone, he would talk to about this, would dissuade him from his undertaking. They would say, that is was too dangerous, that he should be mindful of Set's silver tongue and his talent for spinning the sweetest lies, clothing them in just the right amount of truth to muddle every argument one would bring forth against him. But it was his duty as the lord of the dead to tend to the needs of the dead. And those needless deaths were a rotting eyesore, stinking a mile high. He could not tolerate those atrocities any longer, now that he knew, in whose name they were committed.   
And this was the reason, Anubis found himself standing before the mighty black gates of Set's tower in the desert. The chafing winds let goosebumps bloom on his arms and legs, and he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He had forgone his ceremonial armour of black obsidian and gold with his jackal helmet. His black skin was mostly bare, only painted with golden hieroglyphs and designs of his own making. He wore the traditional sash kilt in black with golden stitchings and a golden pectoral adorned with glittering precious stones. His eyes stared at the closed gate and his hand nervously pulled at his long midnight black hair, that flowed freely behind his back. He was a slender god, not overly toned or muscled, as his more war inclined siblings were. His hands were finely boned with long slender finger topped with long claw-like fingernails, one of the only signs of his more canine nature. His face was likewise narrow with high cheekbones and a narrow chin, a long nose and almond-shaped amber eyes with a slit pupil. It gave him something wolfish, his sisters used to say. Something mysterious that would attract many females into his arms and bed. Not that that interested him at all. He had his scrolls and tablets, he did not need the company of anyone, least of all in his bed.  
Shivering and stills staring at the closed portal, he berated himself. Why had he not donned his armour? It would have given him some authority in the eyes of his uncle. But it would also have tipped him off. Anubis did not want to accuse the god outright, he wanted to talk to him and see if he could catch him off guard and expose him in that way. Squaring his shoulders, he took two more steps to the double doors and raised his fist to knock on the door. But before his flesh made contact with the black stone, the doors swung without a sound inward and revealed the small figure of a fair-skinned woman. She glowed nearly translucent in the diffuse and shadowy light of the black tower's interior. But her red eyes studied him without malice. Her lips even twitched into the flash of a warm smile.   
"You must be Anubis, Opener of Gates, Weigher of Hearts and Lord of the Dead, my lord. Come in. If you want to talk to Set, Lord of the Red Sands, Bringer of Storms and mighty Howler in the Skies, I will bring you to him." Anubis nodded mutely and followed the strange woman through the imposing entrance hall. He had heard of this demoness from the eastern deserts, Set's concubine and mother of his only daughter. His mother hated her with such deep-seated anger, that she had even betrayed her sacred vows, only to get one over her. He was the product of this betrayal and he should hate that woman in front of him too, but as he looked at her, her frail body, her tender face and her beauty, that shone with grace and aristocratic demeanor, he could not find one ill thought against her in his mind. It was not her fault, that he existed.  
Lilith had guided Anubis through some corridors on a more roundabout way to Set's office. She knew her beloved was waiting in the chamber next to it, so he could study his guest for the few moments she would leave him alone.   
As the entered the moderate room, she bowed low and excused herself to fetch her lord. Would he please wait here for him.  
Anubis eyes glided over the simple yet tasteful furniture. One desk stood in the center of the room, overflowing with rolled papyruses and all kinds of correspondences. A low chair sat behind the desk and one in front for visitors. Shelves were mounted on the walls, also overflowing with scrolls and a few tablets. Behind the desk sat a big window, bigger than Anubis was used to. It showed him an unobstructed sight out in the desert, where a storm was brewing on the horizon. Lighting bolts flashed through the lead-dark clouds and struck the red sands once, twice, three times. Kicking sand up high in the air and leaving behind smoking and smoldering twisted silica glass remenants. That was a part of Set's domain, the desert and the storms. Individually destructive and hostile, but together they could create the most wonderful things, rare things of beauty and fragility.  
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked a honeyed voice at his left ear. So fixated on the storm had he been, that he hadn't even heard Set entering the room or stepping right behind him. A prickling sensation beginning at the back of his skull crawled over his back and he turned sharply around. His eyes found the kindly smiling face of the lord of chaos to close to his own for his comfort. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He had expected to find the other god sitting on his throne, lording his position of an elder over him, or at least arrogantly denying him even a simple audience. But that he would find the mighty Set, clad only in a simple red sash kilt, studying the marriage of storm and desert with a faint smile and crinkling eyes, well it was not the picture he had painted in his mind. Inward he had to agree with his uncle, it was beautiful, but outwards he needed to save his face and so he scoffed at the remark of the other.  
"If one likes destruction and mayhem, then maybe."  
With two graceful steps, he maneuvered himself out of Set's space back unto safer ground. He had been a fool to come here without any kind of protection. But what was done, was done. He was here now, and he had to get the truth out of the other god.  
His scaling remark earned him only an amused chuckle as Set sank into his chair and bad him to do the same.   
"So why are you here then, great Anubis, Lord of the Dead, if you did not want to discuss the weather with me?"  
Set steepled his hands in front of his face and his gaze searched Anubis' face for every small twitch or emotion flitting through his eyes.   
His eyes felt heavy on the younger god. To have all the undivided attention of the war sorcerer, it was heady. This prickling sensation began again to crawl over his skin, coalescing into an itch deep inside the back of his skull. He shook his head, as to dislodge this weird itch, but it did not help. And so he concentrated his mind again at the task at hand, he had to uncover a crime.   
"I am here to discuss a strange string of recent deaths and murders with you."  
Ignorance and innocence sawm in Set's stormy grey eyes. His whole face shoed an open and nacked lack of understanding.  
"Why would you seek me out, to discuss murder with? Are the dead not your domain? I would never meddle in the affairs of another god."  
Set's protests of innocence were so typical for the god of lies. That was the Set, Anubis expected. And it made him furious. A snarl form at his lips and an angry growl clawed its way out of his throat.  
"Don't deny it. You know exactly what I am speaking of. Every day a man, in addition to that, every week one woman and in addition to that, every month a child. They come like clockwork into my halls. All terrified to their bones, all drained of blood. All struck mute by their terror but for one woman, a religious fanatic of your cult. She told me about your priests, sacrificing people in your name, people of Kemet, people you swore to protect from the dangers outside of our borders. Only a god of evil and chaos could concoct such a horrendous plan. Only someone like you would be able to torture his own people."  
Helpless rage dripped from those accusing words. Every plan of logical debate and crafty speeches had fled Anubis' head at the blatant show of supposed innocence.  
Righteous fury burned low in his belly and his only goal was now to wound the other god, as he had been wounded through those heinous crimes.  
But Set stayed calm, amused even. A sardonic grin danced over his lips as he pinned the other god with his stormy dark eyes.  
"Thank you for those compliments, flattery will get you everywhere."  
At this, Set crossed his legs nearly coquettish and smiled still his dark grin. That only stoked Anubis' anger and he spat the next words into his uncle's face.  
"You are such a bastard!"  
The next of Set's words came with such a flat voice, nonchalant and resigned, that it sobered Anubis quickly up.  
"That you did know before you even came here. Or even if you did not know it, everybody would have told you this exact same thing. Because that is all they see. The bastard, the evil One, the Outsider. So if everybody says it, it must be true. If there is a monstrous crime committed, look no further than Set, the Destroyer, it has to be his handiwork. That is the reason you came here, is it not? To find something incriminating to present as evidence against me before the great council."  
Set's voice had taken on a raw quilty, hurt and full of emotions. His face was still open, but sadness swam in his eyes and quieted the storm in them.   
Anubis could not hold his gaze. He cast his eyes downward and shame crept into his cheeks. Yes, this had exactly been his plan. He knew, that the god vis-a-vis of him was a consummated liar, a wordsmith like no other. His father had warned him against his honeyed tongue, his mother had spoken protection spells against his poisonous words over his ears, but the tone of his voice and the words he spoke borrowed themselves deeper and deeper into his psyche, circumventing any spells they could find.   
'Is he right? Did I judge him even before I ever spoke a word to him, only because I listened to the gossip of the others? Do they even know him, the real him? Or did they all see his domains and his different hair colour and called him a fiend for it, an outsider? I'm lucky, that the great Osiris is my father, but even my brother looks sometimes at me with this strange glint in his eyes. I know I am a recluse, anti-social and my domain is not one of the useful ones of nurture or life, quiet the opposite. My animals frequent the gravesides and necropoles and my work is mostly dirty and unclean. There is a reason why I don't like the company of the others, they are too loud and rambunctious, and I just want peace and quiet.'  
He lifted his eyes again and studied the still raw and open face of his uncle, the man who could have been his father had his mother not betrayed her sacred vows. He was the only one out of all his family, who could at least come close to understanding the other god, and he had done the exact same thing as all the others.  
His shoulders dipped in resignation and all fight fleed out of his tense body. His voice sounded tired and small, as he answered his uncle.  
"You are right, that had been my intention. But I see now, that I was wrong. There is much, I still have left to learn about our society. I am not a people person, as one would say, and I have been too trusting in the judgment of others before. Please accept my humble apology. But even if I don't think of you as the malicious monster anymore, there is still the case of those heinous crimes against our people."  
"Ah, you are a gift to your position, weigher of hearts. It honors you, that your first and last thought is for the dead. If those murders were truly committed in my name, I will personally find the culprit and bring him to justice. And I must apologize to you, it was your diligent work and quick mind, that uncovered these crimes and brought them to my attention. I should have had a better eye on my cults and should have prevented such a travesty."  
"Then it is settled. I will now take my leave of you, oh mighty one. I have stolen enough of your time."  
Anubis rose out of his seat and bowed before the other god.  
"Oh no, you have not stolen anything, my dear. On the contrary, it was a pleasure to receive a visit of our reclusive dark one."  
Set rose too and stepped behind the already turned body of his nephew.  
"Come, I will guide you to the entrance. My tower can be a little bit labyrinthine for newcomers."  
His right hand rested at the small of Anubis' back and pushed him gently through the door.   
As they traversed the long corridors, ducking under doors and through curtains, Set gestured with his left hand around the interior and explained some exotic pieces of pottery or weapons decorating his dark halls. His other hand kept ist strong position on Anubis' back, radiating heat and a nearly pleasant sense of security.  
Their way was in equal parts longer and short than Anubis wished for. They strode through one more bead-curtain and right before his eyes glittered the afternoon sun on the sand dunes outside the black portal. They had reached the entrance hall again. If anybody would ask Anubis about the way they had taken, he would not be able to answer them. As much as he wanted to concentrate on the corridors, his eyes jumped to every new object Set would describe in vivid detail or accentuate with an amusing or fascinating anecdote. And the hand at his back occupied his thoughts for the other half of the time, the twitch of Set's finger against his skin if his other hand gestured sweepingly, or the soft pressure, that indicated a turn to their left or right or even the absent-minded little circles, his thumb would draw from time to time on his waist.   
"There we are. I bid you farewell and don't doubt my wors, I will close your case and find the culprit."  
Set squeezed Anubis' hips one last time as he turned and walked back into the gloomy darkness of his tower.  
His young nephew followed his imposing stature for quite a long while until he lost sight of the other god in the shadowy twilight. With a reeling mind, swirling thoughts and a strange fluttering feeling in his belly Anubis left the black tower and the deserts behind, for a well-deserved rest in his cool halls in the Duat.  
On the next day, Set donned his ceremonial armour again and swift as growling storm, that followed him on his heels, he went back to his temple. His voice thundered through the inner sanctum and rattle the offerings at the base of his statue.  
"Highpriest Mekh-Kalet, where are you?"  
Hurried footsteps echoed through the quiet halls as a panting priest rounded the last corner. Hastily he threw himself at the feet of his angry god and stammered pleas and prayers to quell his wrath.  
"I am disappointed. You have twisted my original order into something monstrous and vile. How could you take your people, my people, for this sacred ritual? You profaned this holy rite with your incompetence to follow simple orders. I explicitly asked for foreigners. The blood of our people has soaked those grounds, crying out to me, so loud that I heard their voices on the winds that blow into the farthest corners of my deserts. You have sinned against me and your people. You are no longer fit to be my priest. In fact, you have committed treason of the highest order on your land and the sentence for this kind of crime is death."  
Set lifted his hand and a lightning bolt crashed through the roof of the inner sanctum, right into the still babbling and sniffling priest at his feet. His body blackened in seconds and with a shrill scream, his Ka left him forever.  
Set's keen eyers heard a frightened shuffling of feet in the doorway to the temple proper and an elevated heartbeat coming from a young human priest, cowering at one of the high pillars.  
With a crooked finger, he called him to the still smoldering corpse.  
Shivering and frightened, the young priest prostrated himself next to his mentor at Set's feat and began with another flood of prayers and pleas.  
"Silence. Priest Anamar, you will be the next high priest, elevated by my grace. Did you know about those rites?"  
His finger stabbed into the direction of the black stone and it gore surface.  
The boy confirmed this and Set barreled along.   
"You will go into the quarters of the last high priest and you will look for a scroll, where he had jotted down my instructions for those rights. This you will bring it to me, and I will take it with me, as I will take the stone. He has defiled those once sacred rites, made them unusable, dangerous even. There will be no more of that. Every last ounce of knowledge about those rites shall be purged out of your minds. You will bring every priest before me, who took part in those rites, and I will cleanse their minds, as I will cleanse yours when you have done this deed for me."  
The young priest scrambled to his feet and after a deep but hurried blow, fled to the quarters of his mentors.   
He brought the scroll to his god and then fetched every priest of the temple. As he returned with them in toe, the black altar stone had vanished back into the earth where Set had originally conjured it from. Set did, as had promised. He took the knowledge of the ritual out of every priest's memories and sent them away with a spark of divine fright settling in their bones. At last, he turned again to his new high priest.   
"Come here and let me take this poisonous knowledge out of your mind, that you will be whole again. never again should our people suffer for the religious fanatism of one sick mind."  
With the last memory removed, he summoned a small sand devil, and his form dispersed into sand and wind right in front of the priest's eyes.  
Back in his tower, he burned the scroll while standing next to a grinning Apep.   
This part of their plan was done and now they only had to wait for the seeds of doubt and something else to take root and to grow into something magnificent.


	3. The Consequences of the Plan: Phase Three

It was dark and cool in the halls of the dead, as Anubis' mind swam up out of the deep trenches of sleep's obliviousness embrace.  
His nightly rests had been deep and long in the last weeks and months. No more riddles troubled his mind or kept him awake, agonizing over some wicked or malicious plot. The murders had been laid to rest. Right the day after his talk with Set had one more strange soul graced his halls.  
A sniffling and cowering wisp of a soul with blackened skin and smoldering flesh. From his lips bubbled useless prayers, pleas, and some very disturbing thoughts. But Anubis had fulfilled his duty as the weigher and had placed even this man's shriveled and blackened heart onto his scales. But that pitiful thing was heavy a stone, dragging the scales down to the black tiled floor of the weighing halls. There could be done nothing for this man. The scales had spoken, and with a disgusted shiver at haven to touch this slimy thing, Anubis tossed the heart to Ammit, who devoured the thing in one gulp. The priest's souls ushered one last thin and high shriek, and burst into flakes of ash, only to be blown away by the cleansing winds of the Duat.  
That had been the last death connected to those stranges murders.   
After that, his work became normal and calm again. The dead came in in their long throngs, normal people of different social statuses, different causes of death and different destinies. All was as it should be. No strange occurrences, no mysteries to solve, just his daily work, over and over again. It was right, but oh so boring.  
His left arm flopped over his closed eyes and he groaned in frustration. One more day, one more week, one more month, and so on and on. When would this work end? Every day the same things, day in and day out. He felt like a tiny cog in a vast machine, that was their world. Yes, he had his place, given to him by Ma'at herself, his place in the order of things, to keep them going, to keep their world turning, but in his heart of hearts, he longed for more. In those moments, when the restraints he had put on his own soul were weak, he would creep into the farthest reaches of his palace, he would choose one room at random and then he would tear through it, scream out his rage, let his claws render stone and wood as they would flesh, sling balls of magic and fire around and relish in the destruction. When his rage had run its course and his mind cleared from the red fog, it had been submerged in, his body would begin to shiver and crumble right there in this total chaos. Every time he expected to see his hands coated in the blood of some innocent creature, that had stumbled upon him in his rage-fueled madness. He would search the room with his eyes for corpses strewn about with broken bones and rendered flesh, and every time he would breathe a shaking sigh of relief if he found nothing of that sort. Every time he would promise himself, to never do that again, to keep his darker urges under even tighter control. But every time he would falter and his cycle would repeat itself over and over again. It was alarming, that the frequency of his attacks increased dramatically after the string of murders. And he had still no explanation for his evermore deteriorating state. It went even so far, that he had growled at one of his own guards, not mere days before, as they asked him some trifle question about their daily routine. It had been so meaningless, so trivial, that he just snapped. Had they not brains in their jackal heads to think for themselves, had he to micro-manage every one of their waking seconds? They had functioned for eons in the same rhythm, why aks such a stupid question about something, they had done a hundred times or more. His guard had cowered at the sight of his rage-filled amber eyes and had barred his throat to him in a sign of submission, that cooled the fury in his belly only just a little bit. After the guard had scrambled out of sight with his tail tucked between his legs, Anubis' staggered against one of the many pillars and sank to the ground. His unseeing eyes stared in one of the dancing flames of the fire bowls, decorating the halls and a numbness crawled through his body. His anger had overwhelmed him in a sudden flash of irritation and had bathed the world around him in a red hue. His only possible reaction was to lash out, how could he not? But he knew that it had been wrong. His guards were loyal servants, born out of his own Ka, they were the embodiment of his Ka and Ba combined and therefore an extension of himself. So was his ire turned against himself? Was he angry at himself and only lashed out against those around him, because he could not harm himself? Was he underfucked, as Hathor used to say? Was this really it, did he just need a good lay to balance his humours again?  
He softly snorted at this ludicrous idea. Only a goddess of love and pleasure could come up with such a harebrained idea. There was nothing missing in his life. He had everything he wanted, a quiet and cool home, work to fill his day, his scrolls and tablets in his free time. He didn't need companions or those unnecessary feasts. He had all he wanted or needed right here.  
But why then was there this little nagging voice in the back of his skull? This itch, that just did not go away? It felt like he had forgotten something, that should be important to him, integral even. But for the life of him, he could not remember, what it should be.  
He had no idea what to do anymore, he just knew, it could not go on like this. How many days until he would get one of his rage fits in the weighing halls until he would not tear into furniture but human soul until he would not snarl at his guards but his brother Thoth or his father Osiris? He could not afford to lose his composure at his work and his control mechanisms seemed not to work anymore. But even the idea of talking to somebody of his siblings let him cringe at the thought. It was out of the question. How would he even explain it? They would never understand, the would ridicule him, laugh it off or worst, brand him evil and take away his duties. And he could not lose those. They kept him sane, even if they contributed to his insanity, but they were all he had left.   
All those thoughts did not help his problem one bit. He could look at it whatever way he wanted, but there was no answer forthcoming. Now truly away, he lifted his head from his golden headrest and slid out of his bed. Maybe this new day would bring more clarity.

As Anubis readied himself for his work, Set stared into a bowl with rippling water in it. It had been one of Apep's ideas, to scry at their little project. A wicked chill had run over his back, as he had seen the destruction brought forth by the hands of the black god. How delicious was his dread of his own power? He had salivated at the thought, of how to best mold his little nephew into the ally he needed. But that their little scheme would bring this sort of behaviour out of the other god, that was better than he ever dreamed. The beautiful chaos and destruction laying all around the panting form of the god, sweat glistening in the firelight and sparks of magic crackling in his eyes. And those claws, slicing through wood and stone like it was butter. How Set longed to feel them in his own flesh. Even now a trail of low burning desire snaked through his lower body and hardened his flesh. It was nearly time to nudge the god of the dead in the right direction once and for all.

Anubis day was calm, even if he was tense as fuck. He weighed every word, that came over his lips, was overly accommodating of everybody and went out of his way, to not say anything bad or offending to anyone. But that kind of tight control wore down his overall demeanor, and so he left his workplace at the end of his day with sloping shoulders but still so tightly wounded, that he could shatter at any wrong movement.  
More shuffling and walking took his feet him to his private chambers, where he hoped he would find his peace again. A pounding headache crawled from his stiff neck and shoulders up to his temples and he pressed his eyes to tiny slits, whenever he passed one of the brightly burning fires. The light sent stabs of pain through his tense body and wrecked him even more.   
But the sight that greeted him in his quarters was not helpful at all. There, like he owned the place, sat Set on one of his chairs, crossed legged and totally at ease. He studied his nephew with a neutral expression. He noticed the sign of frailty on his nephew, the shaking legs, the hand on the doorframe to support his body, the scrunched up face, the tense neck and shoulder muscles, the nearly closed eyes and the overall slope of his body.  
His deep voice rumbled through the room, pitched low as if to not aggravate the pains of the other any more than necessary.  
"Good evening, Opener of Ways. How fares your work?"  
Anubis hands clawed themselves around his doorframe to steady his quivering legs and addressed the intruder in his roomes with a tried and flat voice.  
"Oh mighty Howler in the Deserts. My work is as it should be. All is well in the court of the Dead. There were no more mysterious incidents after I spoke to you, so thank you for your handling of that dreadful situation. But I am tired from my long workday, and I would request my lord, to leave me be. I am not fit for company right now. If there is something important or pressing, I would ask you, to call upon me again in the morning."   
Set inclined his head at that request and rose out of his seat.  
"If that is your wish, lord of these halls, then I will heed it and leave you to your rest. A thousand pardons for my intrusion upon your quarters."  
With two steps, Set's long legs had brought him next to his tired host and he turned to leave. A sigh of relief escaped Anubis' throat and he unclenched his hand from the wooden frame of his door and took one swaying step into his chambers before a spell of dizziness rolled over him. The last thing he saw was the dark tiles rushing at him and an unexpected warmth radiating from his hips. Then his sight was swallowed by darkness.  
Set really had wanted to leave his nephew be, as he felt something akin to a bursting bubble. All the little hairs on his neck stood at once and he felt a wave of magic radiating from behind him. He had felt magic like this before, on himself. It was the last warning before the Heka took it upon herself to heal a completely drained body who just did not want to rest.  
He wept around and with lighting reflexes caught the crumbling form of his nephew around his waist. That would have been a nasty fall. The limp form hung in his arms, still breathing, but only in shallow gasps.

Destiny had brought him a gift, but now what to do with it?  
He could deposit the drained god on his bed and be on his merry way. Anubis' Heka would keep him under for as long as she needed to. The little one had drained his reserves pretty badly as it seemed. Or he could alert one of those jackal guards of their sleeping master. They would probably call Osiris, who would help in Anubis' recovery. But all that would leave him without this perfect opportunity he had been gifted. Or he could take the other god with him. To aid him himself. Set hefted the limp body higher up in his arms, so he could carry him easier. Yes, he would do exactly that. He would take the sleeping god to his tower and then he would help him, not only to restore his magic to him but also to free him once and for all.  
Set vanished with his precious cargo in his usual sand devil, appearing again in his private chambers. Still holding the clammy body of the other god to his breast, he called with the help from a little magic to his beloved. Only moments later Lilith entered his room and noticed the two of them.   
"What did you do?" Her voice sounded more resigned and amused than accusatory, but still Set wrinkled his forehead and could only barely smother the urge to stick his tongue out at her.   
"This is not my doing. He did it all himself."  
Her lifted eyebrow told him that, what she would not say and he heard her voice in his thoughts as if she had spoken out loud.  
"Really?"  
"Instead of accusing me of something I did not, help me, woman. His Heka put him in a healing trance. He needs the energy to recover faster, that he would on his own."  
At his words, Lilith saw the pallid hue underneath Anubis' black skin, his clammy skin and he nearly emaciated look of his limbs. With a furrowed brow and worry in her eyes, she nodded and hurried into the adjacent bath chamber. There lay a big pool, its side and bottom tiled with deep blue faience tiles, the crystalline water glittering in the sunbeams streaming through a big window. The pool was divided into two parts, one deeper, one shallower. The deeper one was used for actual bathing, the shallower for a more languid reclining in the warm water. There it was, that Set lay the limp form of the other god. The pool had built-in headrests so that the user could not accidentally drown if he fell asleep. With careful motions Set arranged Anubis' body on the tiles and placed his head on one of the headrests to secure it and prevent and untimely death. Meanwhile, Lilith had called upon their daughter, who had brought some of the magical amulets and trinkets with her. They deposited them all around the prone form of the resting god, and Lilith grabbed some potions form the shelves of the room, to dump them with different kinds of power into the clear blue water, that turned milky.   
"You need to get in there, dear. The oils and potion together with the amulets can do nothing on their own. You have to be the conduit which will send their energies into him, for he can't do it by himself."  
Set nodded and with fluid motions divested himself of his clothes. With careful steps as to not disturb the amulets, he waded into the shallow water and hovered over the other's body. The best way for him to jump-start the other's magic would be, to flood him with his own. The most potent point would be his heart. Set knelt over the prone body and pressed his hands unto Anubis' breast bone right above his heart. His voice slithered with words of magic and laced with healing spells out of his mouth and through the air into the water. It danced through the potions and powders, skipped over the amulets and gathered their stored energy with it, only then did it crawl over the now warm body and sank at the point, where Set's hands rested, into the flesh of the other god. Set's Heka twisted itself around his voice and permeated the tissues and muscles of the sleeping lord of the dead. The golden cloud surged through the other body and dispersed the speels and stored energy into even the farthest corners of his anatomy. Anubis' own magic, having put him under because of a lack of alternatives, felt the intrusion of another force. It surged up from the meager dregs of what was left of it, and touched the dark golden tidal wave, washing over it. The Heka of the lord of death knew the taste of this foreign magic, it tasted of electricity and ozone, of sand and stormes, of darkness and chaos. But it had come to help and aid and so she accepted it. The Heka opened her doors and let the other energy in, let it enter her and melt into her. Every cell of Anubis' body got flooded with renewed energy and it swept all the tension and aches away, that had plagued him in the last months. It lept over him, tingling at his nerves and showering him with shudder after shudder. Warmth crept back into his limbs and a tingling sensation spread from his breast over his body. His consciousness swam out from the muddy depths of stupor back up again and at last, he opened his eyes to an unbelievable sight. The mighty Set, the evilest god of evil who had ever eviled on this earth, quatted over him, his hands pressed to his sternum and still muttering spells of healing and recovery. They were alone in a grand bathing chamber, submerged in shallow milky water wherein small amulets bumped against him. Set's eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concerned effort and his magic pulsed still in a tingling warmth through his body.   
Anubis felt better than he had felt in the past weeks and that simple act of kindness touched him more than he could ever say. He had kicked the other one out, but instead of leaving he must have caught him, saving him from a nasty tumble on the floor and then even bringing him into his home and giving him part of his own Heka to replenish his depleted reserves. That was not the act of an evil man. No, it was more kindness than any god had ever shown him. Nobody had seen the strain of his waning health or the cracks in his poorly crafted facade, not his brother nor his father. But the one god, whom he had accused of foul deeds and whom he had so rudely thrown out of his hall, that one had saved him from a long magical trance. For he knew, had Set not done what he had done, he would have lain a long time in this healing stupor, probably months. And even then I did not know if he would have been that well recovered, as he felt now. It made a difference, if ones Heka replenished itself or if somebody helped it along with their own.   
Slowly he rose his hand lay it over Set's big ones still resting on his breast.  
"Thank you, lord. It seems I am once again in your debt. You have saved me from a long and grueling healing trance, and at the cost of your own magic nonetheless. So thank you again. It seems words are not enough to express my gratitude."  
Set's eyes flew open at the soft acclamation coming from under him. He had not thought, that the other would wake so soon. It seemed, either he had used more energy than planned, but after a quick check of his own Heka, he saw, that on the contrary, he had even used less than he planned for. Most of his magic had looped back to him in a strange sort of feedback loop both of their magics had created with one another. That was normally a sign for high compatibility. Two Hekas so in synch with each other, that they flowed freely between their owners were rare. It showed a connection between the Ka and the Ba both and mostly was seen as a divine sign of connection beyond the normal depth.   
His gaze found the sparkling amber eyes under him and a powerful surge of possessiveness swole up in him. He wanted to grab the other god, to hold him, to mark him and to never let him go. But he could not, it was way too soon for that. The other still had healing left to do, and even then, he had planned a slow seduction as to not frighten him away. He had a plan to follow if he wanted to reap the fruits of his labors. He could not act on his baser instincts for once, he had to keep a cool head. With a stiffer not than planned, Set rose out of the water and stalked out of the pool.  
"No thanks is necessary, young one. We are after all family. And this is what family does for each other. But please, take more care of yourself from now on."  
His hands grabbed the first cloth, he could find, and with hurried movements, he tied it around his midsection.   
As Anubis had stared up into the stormy eyes of his saviour, he had seen the minute change on his face, the hot and heavy stare had ignited a fire deep in his lower body and the blown pupils of the other had told him all the unspoken things, hanging between them. But then Set had closed his face off again, had stalked away from him, back turned towards him and had spoken in such a businesslike tone, that Anubis thought he had imagined it all.   
And he probably had. Why would such a god as Set want him? Why would he even be wanted by the other? Never before had he even entertained the thought of such a thing. Why was now, that the treacherous thought had entered his heart, that it would not leave him alone. The itch in the back of his skull was back again. Not as painful or unpleasant as before, but still irritating enough, that his hands automatically wandered there and tried to scratch it away.   
He too rose out of the water and stepped onto the black obsidian tiles, that formed every surface of the tower. His eyes searched for another towel finding one hanging off a shelf right next to Set's hunched form. With soft steps, he gingerly stepped up behind the other and, while his right hand grabbed the towel, rested his left hand of the tense shoulder of the man before him.   
"But still, thank you. I don't..."  
He never finished his sentence, then the moment his hand made contact with the golden sunkissed skin, Set whirled around. Both had felt another surge of magic running through them, coalescing in a burning desire simmering hot in their nether regions. Set's hands surged forward, grabbed Anubis' face and pulled him towards his own body. His lips crashed against the other's soft ones and he kissed him with a desperate urgency. Without a conscious thought, Anubis dropped the just grabbed towel and his hands burrowed themselves into Set's flaming hair. A low moan was wrested from his lips as Set licked expertly into his mouth.  
Panting they only peeled their lips away from each other because their lungs cried desperately for air to breathe with. Their eyes were clouded, their pupils were blown wide.   
Set's big hands snaked their way down the other's body and grabbed his ass to hoist him up. Instinctual Anubis wrapped his legs around the other's waist, feeling their hardened shafts pressing against each other. Another moan tore itself from his lips, as Set attacked his neck with kisses and bites while he maneuvered them both out of the bath and into his room.   
Anubis just held on for dear life. Every kiss, every nip and every brush of fingers against his skin ignited a hundred new fires, raging through his veins. His nerves tingled with this sensory overload and he plunged deep into a well of ecstasy as he had not known it before. his whole existence had been celibate, bereft of those carnal desires that now ravaged his mind and body. He had thought himself above such things, never even indulged in self-pleasuring. Now that would be his downfall.  
Set's lips wandered down from his neck to his chest. Kissing and biting a trail of fires and explosions onto his skin. Deeper down to his hips and his erect cock. Without a sound besides the continuous possessive growling, Set just swallowed him whole. Had the kisses seen him writhing on the sheets, fisting the thin covers, the unexpected wet heat around his erection led to a buckling of his whole body. His hands found again purchase in Set's hair and he screamed so loud, his throat would be raw for days afterward.   
Bitterness ran down Set's throat as he wrung the first orgasm out of his partner. He grinned wolfishly at the burning sensations of this potent substance seeping into his body. He could taste the first tangs of darkness in there.  
He let the flesh slipping out of his mouth with this obscene wet pop and crawled back up to the panting and totally overwhelmed form of the young god.  
"We are just starting, my dear."  
His big hand maneuvered the pliant black body on its belly and propped its hips up with some pillows. Another rain of kisses peppered Anubis' shoulderblades and wandered down his spine, rousing him from his postcoital bliss and again sending little sparks through his nerves. He was getting hard again. Set stopped at the round globes of his ass, dragged them apart and plunged his flexible wet tongue into the small opening. The tongue in his ass, fucking him with wet slurping sound nearly brought Anubis to another orgasm, had not a magical binding around the base of his cock halted it. So he had to endure the exquisite sensation of the pliant muscle wetting him without finding any release. He whined and pleaded with the wicked god behind him, but he got no answer apart from one or two swipes on his ass. But those only enhanced his desperate pleasure, especially as the tongue was replaced first by one of Set's thick fingers, then by two and then by three, who all fucked into him and stretched him for that what was to come. In his despair, he rubbed his leaking cock against the bed, even began to close his own hands around it and try to find any kind of release from the friction, but to no avail.   
As Set deemed the virginal god before him wet and stretched enough, he was not a monster after all, he took his own dick into his hands, smeared his pearly precum around the hot flesh and thrust into the loosened body under him. His pace was at first languid and unhurried, giving the other time to adjust to his girth. But then, as the whining and panting had reached a new feverish high, he fucked the other god in earnest. Hard brutal thrusts, striking the bundle of nerves every time, wringing screams upon screams out of a raw throat, it was divine. He plunged his sharp teeth into the supple neck of the young god and sucked at the golden blood, welling up from the wound, at the same time coating his insides with his semen.  
Had Anubis' skin not been its midnight black colour, his shafts would have taken on an angry red and purple hue due to his inability to find his release. Before had been nearly too much, but the sensation of being so full, of the dragging of hot flesh against his sensitive insides, of the stimulation of his innermost nerves, it truly was too much. He sobbed and beg the other. Please let me cum, please let me cum. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Set only slept out of him, dragging white viscous liquid with his still hard cock and maneuvered his jerking body around, so that Anubis slumped into his lap and then plunged right back in. His skin felt too tight, his nerves too raw, pleasure turned into pain and into pleasure again. The itch at the back of his skull crept closer and closer to the surface, he could feel it like crackling Ozon on his tongue. Set buried his teeth back in his shoulder, as he fucked him like this. His head lolled to the side and he rested it, panting and whimpering on the others muscled shoulder. His voice hadn't even enough strength left to form words. He just wanted to cum, he needed this overload to end, but then, as Set found with this different angle this little nerve bundle again, and he was filled even deeper than before, every thought of ending it slipped from his mind. He wanted more, he wanted everything. Mewling and weakly scratching his claws over the broad back, he heard the hoarse roar and felt a new wave of wetness in him.   
Now even Set was panting, he wrested the quivering body gently from his lap and laying it on the bed. Anubis' eyes glinted feverishly, the amber colour in them nearly drown by the black of his pupils. His hips pumped uselessly in the air, hunting for a release that would not come. His hands fisted the sheets again and his body writhed und him like a demented snake. What a gorgeous picture of wanton chaos. And it was all Set's doing. Another wolfish green fled over his lips, as his fingers scooped up some of his semen, that dribbled out of Anubis' stretched hole. Even that little contact brought a new wave of tremors, that wrecked the oversensitive black body.   
Without another thought, Set plunged his wet finger into his own backside and began to stretch himself while he towered over Anubis prone form in nearly the same position the young god had woken up to.   
Finding himself loose enough, Set took hold of the burning hot hard flesh, that strained proudly into the humid air and lowered himself on it.   
The little bit of strength left in Anubis' limbs got them to clinging to the broad hips of the man fucking himself on his cock. If he had thought the wet heat of the desert god's mouth would be divine, he now needed to reverse his opinion. Nothing compared to this feeling right here. The pressure, the velvety wall, the dragging motion, and the knowledge, that one of the most powerful gods bounced on his and took his pleasure from somebody else invading his body in this way. And Set truly enjoyed himself, if the moans and hoarse screams were any indications of it.   
The sun-kissed hands found again his chest and his unfocused gaze was trapped in the storm grey eyes before him. One word fell between them and bloomed into something magnificent.  
"Cum."  
His world exploded. White light and colours of every hue danced through his field of vision. One more scream tore itself free from his raw throat, laced with not only pleasure but also triumph and something else. The itch at the back of his head tore through his whole body, shaking him apart at his seem and putting him together again. In this one moment, everything became clear. It had been this god above him, still running after his own release, that had left the door to the darkest corners of his Ka a crack open. And it had been the same god, who had kicked it fully open. He now knew, why Set had come to him, why there had been those mysterious murders, why he had been born. This was his destiny, his nature. He had been born out of revenge, out of a breaking of divine rules, that had invited the primal darkness into his being. That was the stain on his Ka, everybody around him seemed to feel on a subconscious level.   
And this act of sharing their magic, of forging their connection, of partaking in their semen twice in a row, that had freed his darkness from the reins he had put on it since his birth.  
As the world again existed of shapes and colours that made sense, Anubis rolled his heavy and tired body to his side to face Set, who lay equally spent and panting next to him.  
"You knew it. You planned it all, did you not, King of Liars?"  
His voice was deeper than before, laced with a resonating echo and bringing with it the taste of darkness and ozone. Set's lips stretched into a smug grin.  
"Yes. And it was worth it."  
At that, a chuckle rose from deep within him and his claw-tipped hands snatched Set's up into a crushing grip.  
"It was. Now how to expose those hypocrites?"


	4. The Aftermath of the Plan: Phase Four

It had been easier than both had thought.  
After their little tryst, Anubis went back to his work. He still fulfilled his duties diligently and judged every soul neutrally as he should. He did not favour the ones with more darkness in them, as Osiris had feared from the moment, he had felt the changes in his son. No, he worked as he had before, but with one difference, he was calmer, more intuned with himself. At the end of his day, he would vanish. No one knew at first, where he would go to. His father asked Thoth if he would come to his library, but the ibis-headed god only declined. He hadn't seen his brother for quite some time in his halls. Then Osiris went to Hathor and Bastet, maybe those two knew, which young goddess had caught the god's eye. But those two did not know either. They had teased him for eons about his lack of amorous interest in their sisters and never had he even shown a slight inkling of interest towards any of them.  
After a few weeks of this, Osiris was at the end of his patience. He needed to know how his son had freed his darkness and if there was a more sinister reason behind it that could jeopardize the Ma'at.   
So he called a meeting of the great council.   
All came, the council themselves sat at their usual places with their ceremonial armour and all the signs of their names of sacred animals upon their heads. He would be in the place of the accuser today because it had been at his behest, that they should gather.  
Even his brother strutted into the hall like a smug peacock, with a benevolent smile grazing his lips and followed by a strange serpentine man. How dare he? Bringing one of his freaks from the lands outside their borders into their sacred halls.   
He took a deep breath and wanted to unleash his angry tirade on his brother, as he addressed the council.   
"Oh mighty council of our fathers and mothers. I know, why we are all here today. My brother has called you because his legs tremble with fear. He fears the newly bloomed darkness of his own son, his flesh and blood, that was sown there by the deceit of his mother. Her wish for revenge and her wicked mind broke sacred vowes and besmirched our divine law. She is to fault for any of the darker parts of the Lord of the Dead. But hear me, my esteemed forebearers. This darkness is not an evil thing. It is a part of his nature, no longer caged, but in harmony with him. He still fulfills his duties diligently and he stills protects Ma'at with his actions. He should not be blamed for his admirable feat of bringing balance to himself, and he should also not be questioned or harassed in how he spends his free time, for do we not all have our little guilty pleasures? He does not hurt anyone, so let him be. But I say to you, it is not he, we should judge today. It is our mighty ruler and his brood, that deserves our keen observation. How would you judge someone, who crawls out of nothingness, who claws his way into existence and who casts away the part, that he needed when it anchored him, but now hinders him and only reminds him of his birth? How would judge him, he who heaped existence on the shoulders of someone who did not even want it and then cast that someone away like a discarded and broken sandal? How would you judge that somebody, who went around and vilified his brother, because he only wanted to go back from where they came? It was not enough to drag him out with him, no he had to punish him with not only the eternal pain of living but also the pain of endless dismemberments and deaths over and over again."   
At Set's words, Ra's face went chalk white. He now recognized the serpentine man in Set's shadow and terror gripped his heart. How could that be? They fought the great serpent every night, how could he stand here in their holy halls? And why were they still here? Why had he not loosened his jaws and devoured them all?  
The gods and goddesses around Ra became anxious and whispered among themselves. Set's words had rung true in their hearts and they knew that what he had described, was in need of punishment. It went against Ma'at, to do something so gruesome and wicked to another being.  
"He needs to be punished!" The chorus moved through their rows and Set nodded.  
"Here is the victim of this cruel crime."  
With a sweeping gesture to the serpent behind him, he took a step back and let Apep slither forth to address the court.  
At the first words of his story, the crowed cowered in fear, for they now knew, who was speaking to them. But every word from his lips, put their frightened hearts at ease. He did not want to devour them whole, he said. He had found a way to exist without that all, for he knew, he would once again crawl back into nothingness. He also told them about his shadow twin, doing battle every night with Ra, with him being none the wiser. It kept the balance he said, it kept Ma'at, and that was, what they wanted after all, was it not?  
The more he spoke, the more sympathies he gained. The other gods saw his pain in his sickly red eyes and heard the raw tone of his voice. After he had ended, Set addressed them again.  
"Now you see, brothers and sisters. Not all that what is branded evil by some of us, is truly evil or of Isefet. Those are labels, I am overly familiar with, too, as you all know. I demand retribution for all the petty things done to me, over the eons, just because I am different. I am the older son, the throne should have been mine, to begin with, but I was too alien for our beautiful black land, so you chose my brother. Then my own wife broke her sacred vows with him and gave him a son, that should have been rightfully mine. But not enough, after my brothers justified death for this dishonor at my hands, you gave his son the throne. He did not stop at robbing me of what should have been mine but did also defile me with the help of my sisters, who again plotted against me and embarrassed me again and again in these halls before you. I demand in the name of Ma'at that you do right by me for once and rectify your mistakes."  
A quiet hush fell over the great hall. Again they felt the truth of his words in their hearts. They had made grave mistakes and had dishonored him in so many ways, that he could demand retribution until the world ended. Restoring him to his rightful position was only a small price to pay for their errors.  
And so they gave in to his demands. They took Ra's leadership away and gave it to Atum, who stepped out from the shadows of the golden sun, having dwelled there hidden and unseen. They took Horus' crown and put it unto Set's brows, making him the godly ruler of the two lands. They banned Iset and Nephthys with Horus and Osiris from the court hall. They should live in the Duat in Osiris' palace or at Horus' dwelling in the marshes of Lower Egypt. And they made room for one more seat at their table for Apep. His shadow twin would battle Ra nightly to keep the balance, but they now would listen to the council of the old god, who at seen so much on this world and maybe could bring a new perspective to old problems.  
To say that Set was happy, would be an understatement. He had all he had ever wanted, his kingdom, a beautiful consort at his side, a dear friend and their daughter and a wise counsel.  
The transition to his rulership went smoother than expected. The humans took to it as fast as their short lives warranted. There were even pharaohs, taken on names in his honour. Yes, his rule also brought foreign kings in the two lands, but it kept them alive and not crushed under a flood of other cultures. Even the greek accepted their gods and worshipped them together with their own.  
The time flew by and he fulfilled his kingly duties with as much fervor, as he did everything else. He had not changed his seat, still living in his black tower in the desert with his new lover, his old one and their daughter.   
It was a beautiful day when he awoke next to the slumbering form of his love, his nose pressed into his black shoulder and his cock still buried in his ass. Groaning he rolled of the warm body and stretched languidly. A new day waited for him. After his morning routine, he came to his work chamber and found a strange correspondence atop of his usual piles of scrolls. It was written on a piece of parchment, in a language, he had not seen in a long time. The angular forms of runes told of a hurried plea for asylum. Apparently, the prince of the Jötunn, a race of frost giants from high up north, had been kidnapped at a very young age and grew up as one of the Æsir, his people's enemies. He had believed himself one of the godly race and had in a fit of overzealous rage tried to quell the thread, the giants posed to their society, once and for all. Unknowingly he had killed his progenitor Laufey, his mother and father in one body, and had so unleashed his true heritage. His adopted father had denounced him after that, branding him a traitor to their land and casting him out. His brother, the very god he fought side by side with, had spat at his feet and called him an abomination. His own people had thrown rock and weapons after him, for he had killed their king. And so he was all alone in his world. But words of a kind pharaoh had reached his ears, one who opened his arms to foreigners and outcasts and gave them a place to stay.  
Those lines moved Set's heart to tears and he sat still weeping for the poor young man at his desk, as Anibus' warm hand took him out of his thoughts.  
"My love, what is it? What has brought you to tears?"  
Without words, he shoved the vellum into his beloved's hands and bade him to read for himself.  
"It is not right, that a child torn from his true heritage and lost, should walk this path alone. I was lucky to find my balance and make peace with every part of myself. But to deny someone this chance, that is against Ma'at. We should grant him his wish for asylum."  
"Yes, I will write to him at once and tell him, that I will open our borders for him when he comes."  
The news of their soon to arrive guests swept throughout the land like a flood. Even Iset and Nephthys heard the news in their chamber in the Duat. But they were not happy about that. Iset especially had taken the changes very hard. She abhorred her new greek forms and those barbarians, who worshipped her now. There were times, when even her sister flickered in and out of her, for the newcomers did not see the difference between them, and just made one out of them. She hated, how her husband grew weaker and weaker, how her son had lost the luster of his wings, and of how Set seemed to flourish in these times. He populated his court with different gods from all over, manly that little bitch of his daughter, who still followed at her heels like a lovesick puppy, but also her other friend, those greek gods who seemed to live at the palace. And now that, a new strange god, from high up in the north. Some outcast, probably another freak again. He would certainly bring a new wave of syncretism with him. There was no escaping their ever-dwindling true worshippers, their rites being forgotten or changed. They had to do something.  
And so Iset began her scheming. She and her sister had procured a rare scrying bowl, that would even break the defenses of the black tower, for Set was crafty in his protections spells. It had cost them nearly an arm and a leg, literally, for they had to travel to Greece and find this damnable Sphinx with her fucking riddles. It had a wicked sharp beak and no humor at all if one did not answer correctly.  
But it had been worth it. Sickly green symbols adorned the lead bowl, that held a modicum amount of ibis blood. They had to kill one of the birds sacred to their brother, but what was one more sacrilege? They had been branded heretics anyway.  
And so they crowded around the bowl, who showed them the dark and gloomy halls of the black tower. Their vision followed one individual in particular, who was on her way to her perpetual magic lessons. She still had no more a grasp of their dualistic nature than at the beginning of her learnings, and her debates with her teacher about it became an ever more frustrating nuisance, for their arguments went always the same, she could not understand his point nor he hers. And so, they were doomed to dance this dance over and over again. The sisters watched the scene unfold and at the harsh and angry words, Iset had an epiphany. They would use this little foreign bitch to their advantage. She would be their instrument of revenge, she would be the blade hidden at the breast of their enemies.  
But they needed her alone, without the ever-watchful eyes of her girlfriend. Their moment came, as Satech got an invitation to one of her friend's big symposions.  
It had been ages since Dionysis had invited all of his friends to a big festival. Kali had declined the invitation, claiming headaches, but had wished her lover a happy time.  
So Satech took the journey over the sea alone. Her best friends in form of a stiff and proper Athena and an energetic Ares waited for her at her landing site.  
Ares' big hug crushed her before she even had planted both on her feet on solid ground.  
"I have missed you, little sandstorm."   
As it got clear, that Ares would not unhand her any time soon, Athena closed her arms with an exasperated huff around both of them.  
"I have missed you too, dearest ones. Now tell me all of the newest gossip."  
At that, Satech wriggled out of their embrace and linked her arms through theirs, as she pulled them inland. She knew where they needed to go to, Dionysos never changed his venues.  
Laughing and joking they arrived at the festival grounds, where a party was in full swing. There were drums and flutes, singing and hollering, the wine flowed like water and there were more couples of every form, gender, and kind having sex on any surface possible, than it was proper, even for a bacchanal. Satyrs and Maenads run through the people, different minor gods and goddesses at their heals, Satech saw even Aphrodite and her husband making out in the shadows.   
Dionysos was already shit faced as they come, but he still came to greet her and her friends.  
"Welcome to the biggest bacchanal of the century. Drink, eat, fuck, make merry however you want, don't leave unsatisfied."  
He pushed a full Kantharos in her hands and melted back into a throng of copulating bodies with pelts and hoves.  
Satech stared a little shell shocked at the wine cup. Well, when in Rome...or something like that.  
Shrugging her shoulders, she gulped the sweet syrupy un-mixed wine down, that instantly went to her head, and threw herself into the chaos, followed by her two friends.  
Dionysos had not lied. he really had put the biggest orgy together, that she had ever seen. Not only had he brought every horny creature known to men or god, but he also had charmed those wonderful little idols of phalluses with little wings. The cheeky little things fluttered around the crowds and search for anyone still lone or in need of a good fuck. A whole flock of them? murder of them? school of them? pack of them? had found the three friends. First Athena had just swiped angrily at them, for they could be quite annoying, and she had never seen the goddess enjoying any carnal pleasure. But then, after a few more cups of the delicious wine and one or two hits of that sweet herb Ares had produced, a gift from his brother Hermes he had said with a wink, even the proper Athena sank on one of the clines standing around and fanned her flushed face with her Apoptygma. She had loosed the clasps of her Peplos slightly, and the light material slid from her shoulders to reveal a strip of milky skin.   
The fluttering of wings over their head had not seized, but even Athena was too drunk, to shoo them away. Sighing she petted one of the creatures lightly, that had landed on her breasts. Drunkenly, she scooped it up and nestled at her clothes, until she had shoved the fabric aside, which obscured the view of her sex. Then she just thrust the thing inside of her, moaning as it entered her. She let go of it and it began with the fluttering of its tiny hummingbird wings to move by itself.   
At the success of their brother, the other ones swooped down and tried to find willing participants in Satech and Ares. The two friends giggled drunkenly at the attempts of the creatures to get into their clothes until they freed them from their clothes and plucked some of the creatures hovering around them out of the air. The magic in the flying things gave them not only life, but it made them slippery too as if they were always covered in slick oil to ease their passage in any bodily opening.   
Ares grabbed one to slicken his hands with, stretched himself open with his wet digits and let the creature take him, while he beckoned Satech to him. His fingers still glistened wet and shine in the flickering firelight all around them. Gently he grabbed her hips and plunged one finger into her backside, opening her up for his own girth. Satech rocked on his finger and tried to get him to fuck her deeper with it, but he just shushed her and worked first one, then two into her, slickening her opening and loosening the muscles enough to take him. As he was satisfied, that she was slick enough, he pushed her into his lap, her back against his chest and speared her onto his erect cock. With shallow thrusts he fucked up into her, as she grinding down on him, feeling still half empty. Her hands found one of the things, fluttering at the level of her navel, and she pushed it into the direction of her weeping slit. Its mushroom head entered her wet tunnel in one go, and she cried out at the feeling of being truly stuffed and fucked from both ends. Their rutting became feverish and lost any and all semblance of civility. Both gods chased only after their own pleasure and release and cried it out in the humid air, for it to mix and intermingle with all the other sounds of pleasure echoing over the fields.   
The night air cooled around the sent bodies, lying in tangles of limbs and other parts strewn about the wet grass. As the morning came, so did they wake up again, sore, tired, but nonetheless happy.   
Satech untangled herself from Ares possessive arms and skipped to an awake Dionysos, who counted the no lifeless clay idols. She stopped at his side, eyeing the idols with a curious gaze. As he became aware of the presence at his side and turned into her direction, she threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek.  
"Thank you so much. I didn't know, I needed that. It truly was the bacchanal of the century."  
Dionysos smiled in his mischievous way and threw one arm around her shoulder, to hug her to his sides.  
"To get out of your know hunting grounds and to have new experiences is always a good idea, my dearest one. And for your enjoyment of my festivities, you can take some of these with you, if you want to. The speel to wake them is written on their underside, it will last for nearly half a night."  
With a soft squeal, Satech hugged him stronger and scooped then four idols into her arms. With another kiss to his cheek, she skipped back to her groggy friends, to show them her spoils. She would take them home and they would bring her and her girlfriend many fun nights.  
Laughing Dionysos watched the retreading backside of his friends, as a sharp pain shot through his temples, and he swayed on his feet. Before his eyes, a scene of rage and destruction rose out of red sands. A bad omen, as he had ever seen one. ut he could not trouble his friends with his visions of madness and despair. Divining was Apollo's domain, he just was the unstable one. Cassandra had been the only one to understand him in his plight, but even she had vanished into the sands of time. So he would steel his jaw and smile. He was after all the god of festivals and debauchery.   
After she had woken her friends up, they accompanied her back to her ship at the coast. After many hugs, kisses, and some shed tears, they made each other promise, to visit more often and to do something like this again soon.  
Waving, and with a light heart, Satech started her way back home.  
Meanwhile at the black tower sat one not overly happy goddess in her room. Kali stared at the papyruses strewn about on her desk. They were magical formulas, spells and rituals, all pertaining to the schools of Ma'at and Isefet, order and chaos. In all her years living in this dualistic land, she had never understood the reason for this world view. Her eyes burned from the long unblinking staring at those damned things. Suddenly filled with a wave of seething anger, she swept al the scrolls from her desk, where they fell with soft swooshing sounds on the ground. In her sudden anger, she wanted to crush them under her feet, to grind them into dust under her heals. That was their rightful place, not taunting her with this senseless knowledge of how the world never would be. Growling she tangled her hands in her hair and pulled at the thick black tresses, the pain grounding her only a little bit. None of those living in the tower understood her plight. All of them grew up on this poisonous milk of dualistic forces. How was she to open their eyes, when they willfully blinded themselves to the truth.   
Kali paced through her room, too wired up to sit down or read, but to distracted to go to the training grounds. She still was a stranger in these lands and had besides Satech and her family no one she could talk to or no rites to perform. With a growl, she took her cloak and ventured out of the black tower. Maybe a little bit of local sightseeing would be helpful and would clear her mind.   
This was the moment Iset had waited for. She donned her most informal dress and got on her way to intercept the foreign goddess. Their paths crossed at the threshold of the deserts and the lush farmlands of the Fayum, where Kali stood on a hill, gazing down at the farms of the humans. Iset sidled up to her and for a long moment they just silently stood beside each other. Then the mistress of magic began to talk.  
"Oh mighty Kali, goddess of bloodshed and the end of times. What brings you here out into the two lands, so far away from your home in the black tower?"  
at first, Kali did not want to answer the presumptuous woman. There was no reason to explain her coming or going to one of her beloved Aunts, but then she turned her head and looked at the gentle motherly face, which looked which rapt attention at her. She saw the concern shining in those deep eyes, the worry lines, only a mother would have, and she was overwhelmed by a wave of homesickness and longing for her own soil far away from this still strange land.  
"I just needed a change in scenery. It just felt too stuffed in these dark rooms."   
That was not entirely true. The rooms were lights, with big windows letting the burning sun in. It was atypical for the normal style of houses she had observed in the countryside surrounding her dwelling. The black tower was of a different making than even the other godly palaces. But she had to give a plausible reason to the other woman.  
Iset nodded gravely.  
"Yes, I know of these dark halls. My sister still shudders as she thinks of them. Gloomy and uninviting, always shrouded in this twilight, never really showing themselves to their inhabitants. It must be hard, to live in those inhospitable halls in this strange and foreign land. Tell me, has my niece even taken you to any of her siblings? Has she shown you around or even taken you with her on her jaunts through the two lands?"  
Iset knew, her words would jab right into existing wounds. Kali had been the one to decline any proposition of her girlfriend to take her out. But now in retrospect, the other goddess would see the fault not in her behavior, but in that of her lover.  
Kali furrowed her brow deep in thought and at last, shook her head.  
"No, I only know the walls and courtyards of the tower. She never took me with her."  
A gentle hand squeezed her forearms, as Iset tried to comfort her.  
"Oh you poor thing. No wonder, the tower is suffocating you. Your beloved has been a most ungracious host. Come, let me show you the beauty of our land, as you should have seen it ages ago."  
With a gentle pull, Iset tucked the other woman into the direction of the farmlands and laced her arm through hers. While they walked upon the rough dirt road, her voice filled the space between them with ease.  
"Sweet one, I know your struggle well. I have seen it in your eyes. You are lonely here, are you not? This is a look, I know only too well. My sister had the same haunted eyes. She always felt so alone and misunderstood. It seemed to her as if every word she spoke fell on deaf ears. I know how it feels to cry out and to rage against a wall of granite. Every ounce of your strength gets sapped away by their unmoved faces, their cold hard eyes, their ignorance. I cried myself hoarse, but still, nobody heard me. And then, I just gave up. But I am old, deary. But you are still young and have still strength in you. I wish for you, that that will not be your destiny."  
The softly spoken words pierced Kali's heart like fire arrows. Yes, that was exactly how she felt. How did that woman know her innermost thoughts? Was she maybe not the first to think them here?  
"Oh wise one, that is exactly how I feel at times. But tell me, why are you the one, to understand my plight?"  
Iset's voice only grew softer, as she gazed forlornly out into the lush green farmlands.  
"I know them so well because I too have thought those thoughts and felt those feelings. I know of your philosophy because it is my own. Not all of us are trapped in that dualistic view of things. My great-grandfather, my husband, my sister and I, we know the truth, and we tried to tell it to the others. But people like Apep and Set denied it and turned our siblings against us. We know, that we come from one, and are one. Apep and Ra were born out of the same force, they came into being as one, the one the extension of the other, while the other was the anchor of the one. They were two in one, not separated, but united. Only Apep never wanted to see it, he desired uniqueness and tried to take it from his other self, creating a vicious cycle, Ra wanted to end it by reuniting them again. Set on the other hand, is but only one part out of four. He once was one with me, my husband and our sister. We were to be each a part of one whole, showing only one facet of one object. But he could never content with this position. He had to break out, to shatter our unity. His jealousy of our bond was, what created the rift between us, not some fabricated defiling of any sacred bonds. He was the one to defile our connection because he denied it. He turned against us, shattering our Oneness into this twisted fractured reflection of the beautiful whole it once was. You see, it is not your fault, that you don't seem to understand your teacher. It is the fault of your teacher because his teachings are wrong and twisted. He tries to impose a picture of reality, that does not even coincide with our own beliefs, far less with yours."  
Iset's words rung true in Kali's heart. Every doubt she ever had about Set, his methods and his philosophy were laid bare and for the first time, she saw the ugly truth. She had been right all along.   
She balled her hands into tight fists and a snarl tore itself from her lips.  
"The bastard, I will..."  
Iset's warm hand on her upper arm stopped her in her half-finished threat.  
"It will be of no use, deary. I know his ways. He will spin his lies, and your anger will rot forgotten in a corner in just but a few days. No, we must be careful, in how to expose him as the charlatan he really is. And I have just the idea for you."  
The next day found a returning Satech running through the halls of her home. Her arms were full of the spoils of her nightly excursions and she skidded to a slithering halt at the doors to her rooms. With a loud band, the doors flew against the black stone, rousing her snoring girlfriend from her deep slumber.  
"Honey, I am home..."  
Depositing the clay idols carelessly on her bed and jumping on it, words of her adventures flowed out of her mouth, her exciting tales were amplified through large sweeping gestures, that tried to convey her overflowing enthusiasm for her journey. Her girlfriend listened seemingly attentive to her tales and she oohed and ahhed at the appropriate moments. At the end of her grand tale, she snuggled up to her lover and just hugged her muscular form to her.   
"I wish you would have come with me. I missed you there."  
Those words were like hot irons, stabbing into the poorly scabbed over wounds, Iset had exposed yesterday.  
Swallowing her anger, Kali tried to look kindly at her lover and smoothed her frizzled red and white streaked hair.  
"I know my love, but I would not have been good company."  
Satech gazed at her with big saddened eyes and her hand carded through the thick black tresses.  
"I hope, you are feeling better today my love."  
Kali seized her hand and kissed the tender skin on her wrist.  
"Yes my love. I am feeling better today. And not a day to soon, for today our new guest will arrive, or have you forgotten that important day, my little scatterbrain?"  
"Oh shit, is it really today? I totally forgot."  
Satech scrambled out of the bed and tore into her dresser, flinging clothes left and right, while muttering to herself.  
Hours later she stood with her mother and her consort at the side of her father. She had found something formal to wear, with the help of the best girlfriend in the world. All of them wear clad in their best dresses, representing the two land to the foreign prince seeking asylum at their shores. At the agreed time, the runes of a teleportation spell appeared in the entrance hall of the black tower. Strange blue glowing angular symbols formed on the ground, extending into a circle of crackling energy. With a blue flashing light and a near-silent pop, a handful of people appeared in the gloomy hall. Satech counted not more than five figures, four of them robed and veiled, while one of them stood proudly at their front. That must be the prince, her father had corresponded with.  
Prince Loki looked really like a godly prince in her eyes. His slender body was clothed in a black kneel long leather tunic, that was made out of crisscrossing leather straps at his chest, and flared slightly over his hips, with an angular slit at his right thigh. The trousers on his long legs were nearly painted on, so strongly clung the black leather to his slender limbs. At his knees there also crisscrossed leather stips, that morphed into equally black high leather boots. Over all that, he wore a coat, made too out of black leather with forest green patches on the shoulders and golden applications on his forearms and wrists. His shoulder-length black hair was swept back, showing a narrow face with high cheekbones, a slender nose, small lips, a high forehead and sunken in emerald green eyes.   
The young man bowed low before the god-king and his family and addressed them all in a smooth and cultured voice.  
"Oh mighty lord of the two lands, ruler over the black land, my lord Set. I am in your debt. I give myself into your hands and humbly ask for your asylum."   
He and his servants stayed bowed until Set made a large sweeping gesture with his right hand.  
"Prince Loki of Jötunheimr. I accept your gratitude and bid you welcome in my home. I grant you asylum for as long as you may need it. Welcome to Kemet."  
At those words, the prince and his servants bowed again low and Set addressed them again.  
"My tower has enough rooms to accompany you all. Lilith will show you the way to a big suite, suited to house you and your court."  
The five individuals turned with a nod from Loki nearly as one towards Lilith's white figure and followed her deeper into the tower.  
After they had left, Satech's curiosity overwhelmed her and she skipped to her father and his beloved, that exchanged low words with one another.  
"Father, who do you think were those four veiled figures?"  
"In our correspondences, the prince had mentioned, that he always traveled with four women, who serve as his handmaidens. It seems to be a tradition in his homeland, that every magic-user has a coven of sorts, that will travel with him or her. They seem to use much circle magic and therefore their coven is akin to our amulets or scepters when it comes to guiding their magical energies."  
"Their magic sounds interesting. I hope, when they are settled, that we can talk about our different approaches, and that they maybe even let me observe one of their circle rituals."  
"Well, you can certainly try to talk to them, when they are settled."  
Fondly he petted his daughter's head. What a bright child she was. Always so curious and interested in foreign cultures and customs.  
Hopefully, she would help in making the prince feel at ease with them here. Form his correspondences Set had gleaned a quick mind, gifted with a talented tongue, but also a reserved young man, hiding probably much grief in his frail body. The words themselves had sounded innocent enough, but the tale growing from between the lines was a harsh one, to endure that could break any man.   
Lilith returned at that moment, interrupting his dark thoughts. As they had discussed before, she had given the five people a suite in the far north corner of the tower, a big lofty community room with three adjacent bedchambers and one big bath. The handmaidens needed to share two rooms between them, but the sleeping quarters were equally large so that that would be not uncomfortable.   
"The prince humbly requests, that he be excused from any customary company. His magical energies are heavily drained after his teleportation spell. Also, the inherit Heka of our Kemet seems to throw his own into haywire. He needs to adjust to the different flows of our magic and the different configurations and flavour, he said. And apparently he is used to a much harsher climate. I know, that he told you about his homeland and that in wise foresight, we equipped the rooms with appropriate clothes, but still. I think he needs to adjust to the warmth and heat of our black land. Being in a desert those help not too much with that either. The poor boy, he nearly collapsed right there in the first room. His handmaidens had to support him and guide him to the bed. That his Heka did not put him into a healing trance is a small miracle."  
Anubis was the first one to react to that. He nodded and his eyes filled with understanding.  
"If his homeland is truly of ice and snow, then our heart will be unbearable, especially in those heavy clothes. And if he taxed his Heka truly that hard, he needs a long rest. We could give him some of our amulets, but if our Heka does not mix well with his, it could be very dangerous. It probably is the best, to just let him rest as he requested. If his magic is even a bit like ours, it will regenerate itself with time. Sleep, rest and a healthy diet will help the process along, but he will need time, probably weeks or even months."  
Satech's face fell at that grim diagnosis. She had hoped to speak to the prince way sooner, but if he truly was that sick, her curiosity needed to wait. But it was a shame, really. She assumed, that the handmaidens would stay with their lord too, to better aid him in his recovery. It would be a long time until she could get a glimpse at the magic of their guests.   
Anubis' words rung true and it was decided, that they would give their guests their room and the time they needed. No one was to disturb them or harass them. Set looked especially hard at his daughter for the last part. Grumpy she agreed to give them their much-needed peace and quiet, even if she wanted to pepper them with thousand questions.  
After this matter was settled, the king and his consort turned towards their kingly duties once more, and the small gathering was all but dismissed. Lilith returned to her scrolls and Kali tried to convince her girlfriend, that sparring right now would be a grandiose idea. But Satech sounded less than enthusiastic about that particular idea and her lover could see the scheming going on underneath her brows.  
With a resigned sigh, Kali guided them into one of the small courtyards tucked into the tower, works of magic that peppered the interior with small openings and little greenery.   
She pushed Satech on one of the many banks, decorating the garden-like courtyard and sat beside her.  
"I can see the wheels in your head turning, my love. You heard your father. Let them rest. There will be time enough for you to pester them with all your questions. They just arrived, give them their rest."   
The 'Please' that hung behind the sentence was left unsaid. But even if Kali had spoken it, she did not know if Satech would have heard her. She knew the obsessive twinkling in her eyes only too well. It was the same drive, that brought her to her homeland in search of those weapons. It was the reason, she fell in love with her. It was the reason that made her such a good warrior and sorceress. It was her edge, but also one of her greatest weaknesses.   
Satech stared at the black hands of her lover, clutching her own in them. Her thoughts raced around in her head, jumping from one trail to another. Everything Anubis had said jumbled together and coalesced into one clear picture.  
"But I can help him. I know, what Anubis said about our Heka and how we don't know if it will harm the prince even more. But if I go, and talk to his handmaidens, then I could show them my magic. I could tell them about our rituals and together we could work on a way for him to recover faster. Don't you see it, I need to go to them. I have to talks to them!"  
At the end of her little ramble, Satech sprang to her feet and wanted to rush out of the garden, back into the twisting halls of the tower. But Kali's hand on her wrist held her back.  
"Do you even hear yourself? His handmaidens are probably looking already into something like that. They would know best, how their magic works. And they would probably approach your father with such an idea if it even were possible. They don't need you meddling in their affairs. Come, let them be and spar with me. My muscles ache for a good fight."  
Hurt bloomed in her eyes and Satech wrenched her hand free form the grip of her beloved.  
"Why would you say something like that?"  
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and betrayal crept up from the bottom of her belly, leaving a sour aftertaste in her mouth.  
"Fine, stay here or do whatever you want. I don't need your permission to do anything in my own home. I will go and speak to them. Maybe my help will be more welcome there."  
With a furious snarl, she whirled around and stalked back into the tower, leaving the other goddess behind.  
Her furious strides ate the distance from the courtyard to the northern guest quarters in no time. As she had reached the doors, her temper had subsided again, and doubt crept into her thoughts. Maybe Kali had been right. What if the handmaidens had thought about something like this before and hadn't said anything, because it would not work? Worrying her lips and lost in thought, she rounded the last corner and smacked against another body. A quiet startled scream echoed in the gloomy corridor and Satech found herself tumbling backward with a handful of one warm body pressed against her.  
Her hand scrambled to find purchase at the nearest wall, and she was able to find her equilibrium again with the other woman still clutched to her body.  
"Oh excuse me, my lady. I did not look, where I went. I should be more careful in the future. A thousand apologies."  
The green-clad woman bowed low and peeked through her dark hair nervously at Satech.   
"None of that. It was I who should watch her steps. I apologize for startling you. Where are my manners? My name is Satech, and I am the daughter of the lord of this tower. I wanted to welcome you personally in our home and offer you my help for anything that could help you or would make your stay more comfortable."  
The other woman straightened again but still seemed unsure, of how to hold herself in Satech's company. She had revealed herself to be the daughter of the current ruler, making her akin to a princess, a status she shared with the handmaiden's lord. Still keeping her head low, the handmaiden curtsied now properly.   
"Than you have again my sincerest apologies, my lady. I was way too careless in my behaviour. It will never happen again."  
"No, please don't look at yourself for any fault. As I said, it was I who was careless. I was lost in my thoughts and I should know better, then to take those corners so fast. But I have to say, you really have a light step. I did not even hear your footfalls, an accomplishment in these halls."  
"Oh th...thank you, my lady."   
The women curtsied again. Only now did Satech really look at her. The woman was tall, even a little taller than herself, but she had known that since their arrival, for all the figures were as tall as the prince, one could recognize that even with them so heavily veiled. The handmaiden wore instead of the obscuring veil she arrived in a shimmering green dress, akin to a local one, but with a long sash wound around her wide hips, one end of the leather strip trilled around the other and hanging vertically from her hips. The dress hugged her hourglass shaped figure beautifully, showing off her curves without being too revealing. The cleavage of the dress was a little deeper than Satech was accustomed to, but she warranted it was the style of Loki's homeland. The skin of the woman was as fair as the one of her lord, also probably because of their native climate. Her oval face was currently hidden behind her thick black wavy tresses, for she stilled had her head bowed.   
"Oh by the gods, where are my manners? Excuse me again, my lady. I am called Sif, handmaiden to prince Loki and member of his royal coven."  
Her deep green eyes peered again at Satech and distress furrowed her brow. Her full red lips quivered slightly and she began to worry them with her teeth.  
"I am happy to make your acquaintance, Sif, handmaiden to the prince."  
A sun-kissed hand was thrust into Sif's field of vision. Such a thing was not customary, not in her native lands. A lady did not give her hand to a lowly servant. But as she searched Satech's face, she could detect no ill will or arrogance in her dark red eyes. They were honest and little laugh lines crinkled at their ends, showing general happiness at meeting her.  
Still a little unsure she took the sword calloused hands into hers and squeezed them once.  
"Now that that is out of the way, how can I help you?"  
Having totally forgotten her original mission, Sif's hands sheepishly plucked at her hair.  
"My lord has degreed, that I should be the one to bring food and libations to him and my sisters. Also, I should be a kind of go-between hi and your court, for he still needs his rest, probably for a long while. His Seiðr truly got depleted quite much and he berates himself for his carelessness. He does not wish to appear ungrateful in your eyes for your hospitality and aid, you have given to him, but he is truly unable to do anything besides lying down and resting. I am to observe your land and should familiarize myself with your magic, that I and my sisters can aide him in his recovery and attunement to this different kind of magical currents here."   
Satech nodded understandingly at those explanations. They were sound, born out of a pragmatic mind.  
"Then I will aid you in your quest to find the kitchen. I will show you the shortest route to it. Please follow me."  
With an inviting gesture, Satech lead the way into the twisting corridors of the tower. She kept her promise, bringing Sif on the shortest route to their kitchen and showing her where their food was stored and prepared., for even gods needed to eat. As they returned, full with something of everything they could find, Satech eyed the other woman, who was happily munching on a date, delighted by its sweet sugary taste.  
"I could give you a grander tour if you would like. I mean, only if your duties to the prince do not take up all your time. I will not take away the time you need for your duties, obviously. But if your lord does not need you or you find yourself with some free time at your hands, I would be happy to show you around. This tower is vast and it holds many beautiful and interesting things."  
All that was said in a kind of rushed voice, words tumbling over each other at times. To Sif ears, it sounded earnest, showing the wish to help the newcomers and maybe to get to know them.  
Inwardly she smiled at Satech's behavior, finding it even cute. Outwardly she made a show out of being overwhelmed with this offer.  
"I will ask my lord if this would be in his interest," she stammered, at last, having arrived at the door.  
"Please do that. If you are able to take me up on my offer, you can call out to me. I will be able to find you. I wish your lord well."  
With a slight bow, she excused herself after having helped Sif into the room.  
Satech needed not to wait too long for the call, for mere hours later, the soft voice of Sif resonated from the black walls of her chamber, where she went to plot out her day and what she could show her guest.  
With hurried steps she followed the voice, using her own Heka to find the other woman. Sif stood where she had first run into her, right outside the chamber doors of her quarters. As she approached her, curiosity glittered in her deep green eyes.  
"How does it work, my calling to you? Is it a form of Seiðr? Does it travel through the air or the walls? Do the walls have maybe ears?"  
The words tumbled out of her, showing a keen mind behind the beautiful facade and a thirst for knowledge riveling Satech's own.  
Laughing lightly she beckoned the green-clad women to follow her, as she explained this peculiar feature of her home.  
"It was father's idea after he built the tower. The complex is so large and labyrinthine, that one would never find another person in here if the others want not to be found. So he etched hieroglyphs in the doors and walls of the building. The doors are laced with protection spells and other such things, keeping Isefet out and allowing those integrated into the wards always entry. The other symbols help a voice with intent travel to the intended. So yes, you are right in your assumption, that your voice travels along the walls, flowing from one hieroglyph to the next until it reaches the one you are calling out to. But this is the second or third time, I heard you say that strange word, seidr. What does it mean? Is it some kind of spellcraft?"  
Sif nodded along with the explanation, it rung true for her. Her mind whirled through different magical equations and rituals of her own magic and how would someone accomplish this with runes or different spells than those strange pictograms of humans, animals plants and all kinds of things, that made the language of her hosts.   
"Well Seiðr is not some spell crafting, Seiðr is the art of shaping our world and its future. With it, we are able to look into the weave of time and into the bark and wood of the great Yggdrasil, observing the strands of fate and the flow of time. With it, we can also manipulate and shape the wood and pluck threads from the weave or braid new ones in. It lets us do things like the teleportation and it keeps us alive, flowing through us and around us, nourishing us with every swell or current in which it flows through the world that is the great tree."  
This was an explanation for magic, Satech had never heard before. She found things in it she recognized from her own studies, but even Kali's magic was different than the approach of their new guests.  
"So your Seiðr, your magic, it is in a way like mine, my Heka, but different. My Heka shapes also the world around me, making me words my deeds. In words there is the power of creation, in saying things out loud or even in your head, you bring them into existence. Our Heka work that way. We speak our intent and our will shapes the world around us like my hand would a clay pot. The words spoken by our progenitors, by the old gods, made us, made or Ka, as they shaped it with our body on the great potter's wheel. They gave it life with their words, to be our twin in life and death. Our texts tell us of the Duat because we need their guidance on the dark paths of the nightly hours, but in telling us the right path, they build it under our feet as we walk it. The world around us provokes our words but our words make the world we are describing. So we create as we are created by ourselves in return."  
As she explained their concept of magic to her companion, for the first time Satech had the feeling of truly understanding it herself. Before this moment, she only heard learned what her father had taught her, what she read in the scrolls or heard from her mother. But talking to another sorceress, describing her way of magic to another equally excited about the prospect of learning new things, it was glorious. For as her words flowed from her mind, they created the sureness in it, that her thoughts were true, in speaking them, her Heka was at work. In describing it she brought it forth and made it so.   
"Your Heka sounds intriguing. Would you maybe take some time in the future to show me your texts and maybe even let me learn a little bit about it? I think it could help my lord in his recovery a great deal."  
"Of course. I will ask my father for some of the beginner materials. I would be delighted to work with you on that. But in return, could you maybe show me some of your arts? I would love to see how you perceive the great with and why there is a tree at the heart of the world."  
"It is settled then. But now, you promised me a grand tour, and I am still waiting."  
With a barking laugh, Satech swept her new friend into a hug and linked their arms together. She kept her promise afterward, showing Sif all the different halls and little courtyards, telling her stories about some of the weapons mounted on the walls or some old anecdotes of her childhood.   
And so went the next few weeks. Nearly every morning the two women would meet at one of the many studies and poor over ancient texts and rituals, Satech teaching her the sacred language of hieroglyphs, Sif teaching her in return nordic runes. They worked at small spells together, and exchanged recipes for simple tinctures and potions, having realized both of their cultures used them nearly identical.  
If their eyes burned from too much reading, Satech would take her new friend on tours through her beloved two lands, showing her the most beautiful spots or even strolling with her through the new shiny temples of Egyptian and Greek origin alike. They even haunted the library of Alexandria for one night, frightening the scholars there and creating many rumors about ghosts, hauntings or the wrath of the gods, that had the superstitious folk making signs against evil for years to come. They laughed so hard at their little prank, that they collapsed onto the ground, their legs unable to hold them any longer, nearly suffocation from their mirth.  
Satech also showed Sif her weapons collection and after being needled for nearly two hours, taking one of her blades and showing off her fighting style. Fully absorbed into her sword forms, she was pulled from her revery, as another weapon clashed against hers. Across from her stood Sif with a long staff in both hands, that she had crossed with Satech's Khopesh. Their duel lasted for a while, both women giving it their all, but being nearly matched. With one lucky swipe of her staff, Sif disarmed Satech eventually and knocked her unto her back, pressing the tip of her staff against her throat.  
After the fight, Sif told Satech about the decree of her prince, that any of his handmaidens needed to learn how to fight, after they joined his coven. It was not typical for women in their culture to fight. But Loki wanted none of his girls to feel frightened, overwhelmed small again. He taught them all in his own techniques, that encompassed some nasty and vicious tricks, for they should always feel strong and self-reliant and never be in need of a strong man ever again. None from his coven would ever be a victim of anything ever again. As Sif told this to Satech, old hurt bloomed in er eyes, and she shook her head as if to chase it away. A tight smile appeared on her lips as she finished: "And so I can kick any bastard in the balls, that wants to hurt me or my sisters."  
Satech only hugged her friend, promising herself that she would do anything in her power to protect her friend and her sisters from anyone wanting to do harm to them.  
Little did she know, that the harm lurked into the walls of her home. While Satech had forged a friendship with the handmaiden, Kali had stewed in her own rage. Jealousy had crept into her heart, fuelled by Iset's words, still worming their way into her thoughts. The sorceress had forged a magical connection into the mind of the other goddess that fateful day, and that connection she now used mercilessness. Every night she would send her dreams, fill her heart with rage and whisper poison into her ears. At normal times, Kali could become volatile, but with Iset's machinations, she became like a volcano, ripe to spew fire and lava from its fiery bowels. Kali observed the newcomer, her arms linked with her beloved's, strolling around laughing, doing magic together, riding out, traveling, something Satech had not asked her to do for a long time. They even fought against each other and the intruder had the audacity to try and teach Satech her fighting style. Never had her lover asked her to do the same for her. It was not right. She had to do something against this. She had to bring back her girlfriend. For the foreign bitch had bewitched her beloved, befuddled her brain and wrapped her onto s dangerous spell. She had to free her beloved and bring her back to her senses   
In her dreams, she found the answer at last. She would need to kill the sleeping prince. If he was dead, those women would leave their tower, for they had no more reasons to stay. Sif would leave too and she had her Satech back again at her side, where she belonged.   
This was, what she needed to do. She would wait until Sif once again plastered herself at her beloved side and then she would sneak into the suite and kill this weak prince. She would bathe in his blood and defile his corpse, so even his own mother could not recognize him. Her eyes began to swirl with crazed bloodlust and her lips formed a nasty snarl showing off her wicked teeth. Her image flickered for a short moment to that of the bloodthirsty goddess of destruction clad in human remains and her hands formed claws as if they would hold the hefts of swords.  
After the two women left the tower for one of their little trips, Kali crept through the gloomy halls, keeping her steps light and making naught but a sound. After she arrived at the room, she broke through the doors in a whirl of blades and war cries, unleashing all her fury in one destructive rage. Her blades cut through wood and cloth, splintering and rending anything in their path. She blew through the room like a raging storm, thrashing everything and hacking at anything she could find.  
While Kali went on a berserker rage through the suite, Satech and Sif walked a lovely path, that winded itself around the tower and through the town of Ombos. Satech showed her fried the temples, erect to worship her father, and they even participated in a prayer rite. Afterward, they went to one of the many bakeries, buying fresh bread and eating it at a quiet garden tucked into the shade of the temple.   
Suddenly Sif took her friend's hands into hers and looked at her with warm eyes.  
"I wanted to thank you so much for what you have done for me and my prince. I don't know where we would be without your help. My prince is getting better every day, we think he will be even able to walk in a few days. I know he wants to thank you all properly for you have truly aided us more then you would have needed to. We are all deep in your debt and I don't know, how we can ever repay you all. You especially."  
With that, she took Satech's face gently into her hands and kissed her.   
Satech returned the shy kiss for she too had developed feelings for her friend. She had known for some days, that she only waited every day for the company of Sif, dodging Kali's attempts to spent time together and waiting only for those hours, she could lay eyes on the green figure of the handmaiden. In her heart of hearts, she had felt her once burning love for the other goddess shimmering down and glowing only in a dim light, while a new flame, burning brightly, sprang forth for Sif.  
Pushing the other slightly from her, Satech put her forehead against Sif's and confessed this to her.  
"For a few weeks, I have felt, that I am growing more than fond of you, darling. My hand long to hold you, my lips long for the taste of yours. Love grows in my heart for you. But before I can follow the footsteps of my heart, that ran away to you a while ago, I need to tell my consort of this. I can't betray her for this, because I still hold love for her in my heart. We shared so much and many days lie between us. She deserves better from me. An honest conversation and an honest confession."  
Sif's eyes only held understanding and she gently squeezed the other woman's hands.  
"I know. Go, do what you need to do. I will wait for you."  
A short time after that, both decided to call it a day and return to the tower. Both were deep in thought, walking nearly on instinct. It showed, how well Sif knew the surroundings of the tower, that her feet knew the way as well as she once had known the halls of Odin's palace.  
Coming up on the doors of her chamber, the sound of crashing and splintering wood shook them out of their thoughts. The door to the suite of her prince and her sisters lay broken into tiny pieces on the ground, the room beyond it a battlefield of broken things. And still, Kali rampaged through the room, breaking the already broken pieces into tinier one and screaming at the top of her lungs.  
Shocked Satch stood at the threshold staring at the other goddess with horror.   
The panting and growling woman heard the high pitched scream of surprise and shock, that fled Sif's throat and whirled around to the two newcomers. Snarling she lifted her gleaming blades and with madness dancing in her blood-crazed eyes, she stormed at the two women. Her blades swung high and she brought them down in a bone-shattering arch, wanting to split Sif in two. The handmaiden had pushed Satech aside and with a whirl of green shimmering energy, conjured one staff out of thin air. But the ripples of magic did not stop there. They washed over her, and her figure rippled like a reflection in a stirred pond. Her long hair shortened to a shoulder-length, her face took on more masculine features and her body lost its curve, becoming slender and hard angled. Two long fine-boned hands held now the staff, that parried the brutal downward swings of Kali's blades. Sif's green dress changed too into a more sensible combo of a long black leather tunic and black leather trousers, allowing Loki of a wider stance to cushion and parry the arching swings with.   
Over and over Kali's powerful swings rained down on Loki's nimble form. He only parried them when necessary, mostly he just dodged out of their ways. Kali attacked with no finesse, only brute strength and madness. Mostly she swung wide and telegraphed her movements obviously. But her attacks came tirelessly, crashing down onto the prince with enough power, that one false move could take off his head. But his steps were light as a dancer's. He weaved around her, smacking his staff into her legs, knees, and backside, nearly taunting her with his sinuous movements. Every time she tried to catch him, he was once again out of her range. That only aggravated her more and more, making her swings even clumsier. At last, he tired of this blatant cat and mouse game and with one more stab of his staff against her, he sent a surge of his magic against her, seizing her muscles and snapping her limbs together binding her effective.   
The noise of their fight had alerted the other occupants of the tower, and the last moments of the fight were not only observed by Satech but also her father and his beloved. In awe and horror, they watched the woman they had known for a long time unleashing all her fury at their guests. But they also saw, how clearly superior he was to the crazed goddess. His movements spoke of grace and self-control. As he had bound her with his final spell and a quiet hush fell over the room, Set cleared his throat.   
"Prince Loki, I must apologize for the behaviour of that woman. I don't know, what possessed her to attack you and your handmaidens in your quarters. But you have my word, I will find it out. You have my deepest apologies. I do hope, she did not harm you or your servants. If she did, you are of course welcome to demand any reparation, you deem fit. For any other damages, we will, of course, cover any and all of your expenses. I will personally repair any damages and recompense you for any lost items. But now, we will take her off your hands and will leave you, to take stock of your belongings. Again, my deepest apologies, Prince Loki."   
Set and Anubis took hold of the still enraged form of Kali and dragged her out of the room. A shell shocked Satech followed them, leaving Loki behind in his absolutely destroyed room.  
They brought her down into the deepest recesses of the tower were their holding cells were located. Some rooms, that had not seen any use in eons. There Set and his consort threw her into one of the cells and took off the binding spell, keeping her muscles looked. As soon as she could talk again, Kali began to howl and wail, spewing more crazed words from her lips.  
"I need to kill him...free her...witch...will render her limb from limb...will tear her apart...bewitcher...must break the speel upon my love...need to free her...need to kill him, then they will go away...need to kill her...free her..."  
Satech's eyes followed them, as they secured Kali in the cell. Her heart broke at those words, she heard her once-beloved utter under her breath or mumbling and screaming int he dark dungeon. The madness dripped from her words and she heard the craziness leaking from her mouth. Some poison had to have affected her mind. There was no other explanation for this.  
"Need to kill him, then she will come back to me...Iset promised we will be one again...all will be at it is supposed to...need to kill him..."  
At this Set and Anubis exchanged a meaningful look. Set clasped his hand on the shoulder of his daughter, squeezing in lightly.   
"We will find a way to bring her back. This is Iset's doing. She has poisoned Kali somehow. Fear not. I will go to Apep and together we will find a way to break her spell. Kali will be made whole again and Iset will see her just punishment. You have my word."  
Satech only stared at the cell with the still raving Kali and nodded slightly. Tears crept into her eyes and her heart broke at the sight of her once so lovely girlfriend now a slathering mess of crazy words and bloodlust. Where did her beloved go? Where did the Kali go, that went an all kinds of adventures with her, that held her hands in the twilight of the day, that made love to her under the stars, that kissed her so sweetly? Now she only saw madness and disdain radiating from the disheveled form clad in festering ghoulish decorations made out of corpses.  
"Please, find a way to bring her back."  
Her voice sounded watery and her father squeezed her shoulder once more, before leaving her in the dungeon. He had work to do. Iset would pay for this.   
After her father had left her, Satech could no longer stomach the sight of the raging woman, and so she went back to the destroyed room. Loki had some explaining to do.  
There waited the next surprise for her. The room no longer was smashed to bits. However Loki had done it, everything looked as pristine as it had before. If she had not known, that the room had occupants, she would have believed it to be totally empty. None of the handmaidens were there. After she searched the two side chambers, she found Loki sitting in his bedchamber.  
He sat on his bed, shoulders slumped and hands pressed to his face. His whole body told a story of embarrassment and unease. Gingerly Satech lowered herself next to him and her hand hovered undecided over his left shoulder.  
His muffled voice crawled out from between his hands, as he addressed her, having sensed her presence.  
"I am a shapeshifter. This is why she would have never hurt me."  
It came unprompted and was not really the answer to any of the questions burning on her tongue, but Satech's hand still clasped his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.  
"So, Sif was...?"  
Slowly his hands sank away from his face, which had a self-deprecating grin on it.  
"Yes, Sif the handmaiden was me. All of the handmaidens were illusions anyway. I came alone. Who would be so dumb a to accompany me anyway? I...I wanted to get to know you and your family without the whole princely asylum thing. So, the handmaiden Sif seemed to fit. She could be free of any courtly restriction: You would not think twice of her needing cuddling because of her position. She could go where I could not. And I...just wanted to feel...normal. But I ruined everything I touch. I couldn't even enjoy our time together without coming between you and your consort. It is my fault because I could not keep my hands to myself. I should have let her kill me. Maybe she would have succeeded where all others failed."  
His eyes teared up, a gut-wrenching sob shook his body and he curled back into himself again.  
Instinctually Satech wanted to comfort him, as she would have comforted Sif in this situation. But was her warmth even wanted? Another look into his face showed her red eyes, puffy cheeks, and the dried tracks of older tears on his face.  
His voice was garbled from his tears, wet and tiny compared to his cultured tones from his arrival.  
"In the morning, I will pack my things and be on my way. My shadow will never darken your doorsteps again."  
His words sent a spike through your heart, wrenching at her gut and bringing tears to her eyes too. He could not leave, not now. Gobsmacked and full of sorrow, Satech slid onto the floor before him and took his hands into hers.  
"But why? We granted you asylum, and that still stands. You can stay here, as long as you need to or want to. I thought you liked it here. Please don't leave, don't leave me."  
His eyes swam with sorrow and defeat, as he searched her honest open face.  
"But...I betrayed you, deceived you. I played tricks on you, I even kissed you in my other form..."  
Her quivering hands swiped at his still flowing tears, trying to wipe them away, even as she shed her own.  
"And? I kissed her back. Tell me, did you pretend to like me? Did you pretend to like our discussions of magic and culture? Did you pretend to enjoy our trips through the land?"  
"No, but I..."  
"No buts. Yes, you changed your form, but did you also change your essence, your character? Was it Sif you pranked the library or was it just a female Loki?"  
"I can't change my essence, I have tried it long enough, but my true colours always shine through. No, it was Loki, that wanted to sow chaos and that laughed at the terrified scholars. I did not change that part of me. It was also Loki, who enjoyed our debates, our travels, our sparring matches. But still, I..."  
"no buts, I said. Your shifting saved your life. Why should we, why should I judge you for something apparently natural for you?"  
Her hands squeezed his tighter and she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and comfort him.  
"Realy? You don't hate me for it? You will not banish me from your lands for this?"   
His gesture encompassed all of his form, as if to say that his mere existence was reason enough for others to shun him.  
Her left hand still held the side of his face and she stroke his cheek with her thumb.  
"No silly, we will not abandon you for who you are. You can stay as long as you want."  
The taste of salt bloomed on her lips, as he surged forward pressing his lips in a desperate gesture of gratitude to hers.  
"Thank you, thank you so much."  
Her arms wound at last around him and hugged his quivering form to her.  
"Of course darling, of course."

After he had calmed down, they both sat on his bed, across from each other. Satech's head was coked to the side and her brow furrowed.  
"But what is your real form?"  
A mischievous grin flashed over his lips, and his form shimmered in a green light, changing from the male prince she had seen on his arrival to the shapely female, she had fallen in love with.  
Sif's voice answered her question.  
"You mean, which one of those am I really?"  
As he changed back, Satech shook her head.  
"No, that I did not mean. I meant, what is your real real form. You told us, that you are of Jötunn blood. Do Jötunns look like that?"  
A dark look of old anger and shame crossed his face and it began to close off.  
"No, you don't want to..."  
He even slid to the end of the bed, as if he wanted to stand up and leave this painful conversation. But Satche's hand at his wrists stopped him.  
"Yes, I do. I want to get to know the real you. Without glamours, without the need to hide. We are all freaks here."  
Her face was so open, so earnest, that he sank back down, and with a shaky breath, led his magic flow over him. His head sank to his breast as if to hide his face and his body curled again in on itself.  
His fair skin turned a brilliant blue, where the green shimmer ran over it, revealing not only a different colour but also raised markings of strange runes on his whole body. His hands were now topped with wicked black claws, there were fangs protruding from underneath his lips and his downcast eyes turned a brilliant red, the colour of rubies against his previous emerald green. His black hair stayed the same as it was, only his ears sharpened into pointy tips. After his transformation finished, he still held his head lowered, but gentle hands on his chin lifted it up again. His gaze found a brilliant smiling Satech before him.  
"You are gorgeous."  
And again she sealed his lips with hers. Their kiss turned heated fast, may it be from all the emotional incidents in the last hours or their natural attraction towards each other.  
Kissing and tangled into each other, the toppled onto the bed, divesting each other off as much clothing as possible.  
Loki's skin was cool underneath Satech's heated touch, maybe because of the frosty blood running through his veins. She came to seat atop of him, straddling his hips, still kissing him deeply and grinding down on him, wresting a moan from his swollen lips. Her hands had wandered all over his skin, touching his markings, following their shape. They flowed down his sides, disappearing underneath his trousers. Every stroke of her fingers had brought a new sound from him, a sigh here, a mon there and even a chuckle as she had found a particularly ticklish spot on his flanks. Her hands now rested on his hips, playing with the soft skin there and running teasingly over his flesh.  
"May I?"  
In a haze, he nodded his permission, and she slid off of him, pulling his trousers with her. There it was. The hard flesh she had felt swelling under her buttocks, as she had straddled him. Even his shaft was decorated with the raised markings, leaking the first pearly drops of precum under her gaze. But there also was something else. The inside of his thighs glistened strangely in the sunbeams, that fell in through the window, warming their skin. Curious she touched the wetness with her fingers, eliciting a new moan from her lover. As she followed it to its source, she found behind balls wet folds like her own.  
Curious. With a questioning look, she crawled back over him, seeing the dark spots of embarrassment blooming high on his cheeks. Anxious, he tried to cross his legs and a renewed green shimmered crawled over his skin. But her hands cupped his cheeks again, and she bade him to look at her.  
"Darling, what is it? You can tell me."  
His voice sounded small and laced with old hut.  
"It is shameful, this part of me. It is the punishment for being able to use Seiðr. My magic is a womanly craft and therefore I am made like a woman too."  
"Do you see yourself as a woman too?"  
Satech's question was soft but earnest. Like she was really interested in his answer, like she cared about him and how he saw himself.  
"No, in my eyes I am a man, as were my adopted father and brother. But I have that thing too. It brought me only shame and ridicule. Everyone seeing it laughed at it. So I hid it. But it costs much of my energy to hide it, more than to change the colour of my skin. It always wants to come back."  
Frustration because of his inability to be normal seeped from his voice and changed his face into a picture of pain and torture.  
"Shh my love, all is well. Here you don't need to hide it. I don't love you less because of it. It is a part of you and any part of you is beautiful, like your blue skin, your red eyes, those runes etched onto your skin, and also your shaft and your folds. If you let me, I will worship every inch of you and I will show you the pleasure, they can bring."  
It boggled his mind, how that woman atop of him could be so understanding, so accepting. With those sentences, she had wiped away all arguments, he had ever thought of in his head. With only a few words, she had opened up a whole new world for him, a world where he was accepted, desired, loved even for his deformation, for this thing that made him the laughing stock of the other Æsir.  
Gratitude and a renewed lust clouded his eyes and he nodded mutely for her to continue.

"Before I begin, will you let me show you, how I find my pleasure with my womanly parts?"  
Again he nodded his permission, and she grabbed three of the idols from underneath her bed, murmuring the magical words to breathe life into them. Then she returned to his body.  
Her lips closed over his weeping head and she hollowed her cheeks over his hard flesh, bobbing up and down on it. The sudden wet heat and movement on his sensitive flesh wrestled moan after moan from his lips, while his hips helplessly tried to get more of the wet warmth and thrust shallowly up in her mouth.   
The two of her fingers plunged into his wet folded and while rolling his balls with her outer fingers, pumped in and out of them. His clawed fingers tore into his sheets and high screams flowed out of his throat. Heat ran through his veins, pooling low in his gut, radiating from his shaft and folds getting so expertly pleasured. Never before had he felt just an overwhelming feeling of need. As Satech raised her tempo, he writhed under her, not knowing in which way to thrust his hips, upward into her mouth or downward on her finger. But then she found just the right angle and he released his first orgasm into her waiting mouth.   
Quivering he lay spent and panting on his soaked sheets, but Satech did not relent. Her mouth stayed over his spent flesh, sucking it to hardness again under his nearly pained moans, for his flesh was overly sensitive, whilst her slick fingers slid out of his folds and played with the small ring of muscles behind them, opening it up for more. His body was so relaxed, that she did not find too much resistance for her probing fingers. First one, then two fingers slipped inside his tight opening, feeling his inner walls and stretching him for one of the idols, that she plunged into him, after deeming him loose enough. The seconded idol she gingerly put at his swollen folds, its mushroom head sinking easily into them. Only now did Loki's brain catch up to the reality, having been lost in a post-orgasmic haze. He felt two thick cocks thrusting in and out of his body, feeling stuffed and full. The magical flesh of the idols rubbed at each other through his thin wall, intensifying the feelings tenfold. Another moan tore from his wrecked throat and his hips began again to thurst in the air, seeking any kind of friction.   
His eyes found the bent form of his lover, plunging her wet finger into her backside, opening herself up for the third idol in her hands. As he watched she worked the girth of the shaft in her, her knees nearly buckled at the feeling of getting stretched to her limits.   
Panting she waited a few moments for the first wave to subside, getting used to the pressure and thickness, pumping in and out of here. Then her hand grabbed his cock, sliding her hand a few times up and down the flesh to slick it up and then spearing herself in one fluid motion onto it.

His hips spasmed up into her and she had to steady herself on his chest, while he grabbed her hips in a vice-like grip, his claws digging into her skin. She found a slow tempo to roll her hips over him, rubbing her clit at his body and moaning over the feeling of being so full and stretched. The raised markings on his dick rubbed at her inner wall, finding just the right spots to wrangles a series of low moans out of her.  
As he found his equilibrium again and his hips had found a rhythm in synch with her, another mischievous grin spread over his lips, and with a quiet string of words, he spoke a spell over them. Green mist seeped from his body, wafting over hers and sinking into her flesh, connecting them both through a glittering string of magic.  
He then surged forward, capturing her lips in another searing kiss and changed their position, rolling her onto her back without losing their connection. Her legs clamped around his hips and he began to fuck into her with hard and strong thrusts.  
The magic connected to her nerves and gradually a feeling trickled into her. She could feel two cocks buried in her, rubbing against those nerve clusters, that sent wave after wave of heat through her body, while she thrust her own shaft in and out of a slick hotness, but she also could feel the feeling of a cool shaft fucking her, while another hard presence rubbed it through her inner walls. Her eyes flew open and a panting scream fell from her lips.   
It was too much. The loop ran both ways and fed on itself, he felt what she felt what he felt, and so on. With that, both could not last long and with two more thrusts, both plunged headlong into the searing explosion of their release.  
As they came back to their senses, they lay both panting and sweaty on his bed, a tangle of wet limbs and huffing breaths. Her hand wandered to his, and she gently took it into hers, running her thumb over his blue cool skin.  
Shyly she looked into his glittering red eyes and wetted her lips dry lips, her voice rough from their previous activity.  
"That was...amazing. I have never felt such a thing in my life."  
He chuckled at that, lowered his head to capture her mouth again in a searing kiss and mumbled at her lips: "I live to please, my queen."  
Playfully she swatted his shoulders and a huffing laugh filled the humid air between them.  
"I am no queen, maybe a princess."  
But she sobered up quickly and she became pensive again. Red crept in her cheeks and she ducked her head away from him, but his hands found her cheeks, now burning with embarrassment and turned her face towards him.  
"What is it, my love? You can tell me anything."  
She fiddled with the thin blanket underneath them and her words fell in one tangled heap between them.  
"Isthereawaywithyourmagictogivemesomethingsimilar?"  
His grip became firmer and he looked into her downcast eyes.  
"We have promised us honesty, so please talk to me in a language I can understand."  
After a deep breath squaring her shoulders, she looked at him with a feverish glint in her eyes.  
"Is there a way with your magic to give me something similar?"  
Her hands motioned to his nether regions.  
"You want to have...?"  
Again red bloomed on her cheeks and she tucked her head against his shoulders.  
"I know it is a dumb idea. But it felt so great to feel what you felt and it felt, I don't know, right, how it felt. I can't describe it better than that."  
A surprised chuckled next to her let her head dart upwards.  
"You, my dear, are a wonder."  
Before she could say anything, her lips were sealed again in a passionate kiss.  
"Of course we can look into it. With magic, there is always a way."  
They lay for a while in his tangled sheets, kissing and exploring their bodies at a less hurried pace, until Sett's voice rang from the black walls in search of his daughter.  
Both sprang from the bed, dressed fast into their clothes and hurried into Set's office chamber. Loki's skin turned again in a green shimmer into its pale colour.  
The nearer they came to the room, the slower Loki's steps got, until he lost all of his momentum and stopped two steps before the open door. Satech's hand found his, taking his hand into hers and with one more encouraging smile, she tucked him into the office of her father.  
Set stood with Anubis at his desk, both studying an old scroll, dating from ancient times with tiny characters on it.  
"Prince Loki, I see Kali's cowardly attack has left you in no worse shape. How do your servants fare? I hope they are all without wounds?"  
Loki cast one more glanced to Satech, who nodded with a warm smile and squeezed his hand again. Then he squared his shoulders and told Set everything.  
To say that Set and Anubis would be surprised would be an understatement. Both had no words for the tale of the prince. At first, a wave of old anger crept through Set. Again someone betrayed the sacred borders of his home. Again had trickery fooled them all, but this time not only him but also his only daughter. But then his daughter interjected and told them about her friendship with Sif and their time together. She told them about what she had gleaned from Loki's reaction about the judgment of his fellow gods of his magic and shapechanging abilities. Those stories painted the same sad picture, his first correspondence had, and they reminded Set of his own struggles against prejudice and hatred. As both finished, his anger had subsided again and he could understand the god's decision to hide in his female form. With a sigh, he addressed the Jötunn prince.  
"Prince Loki, I understand your reasons. And I see, that your actions, as misguided as they were, brought not much damage over this housed and saved even your life. I only wished you had trusted us enough with the truth, but with your history, it is not totally absurd, that you thought you had to do what you did for your own safety. You did us no lasting harm, with your little charade, so I forgive you for that. For I am still in your debt for the attempt on your life under my roof. But we have a plan, to bring the true culprit to justice."  
Loki's eyes shone with gratitude and he promised them to help them in any and all planning or scheming, they needed to do in the future.  
Not long after that Set called again a great council meeting, inviting especially Iset and her brood.  
Set had donned once again his ceremonial armour, showing off his impressive figure, with the equally imposing Anubis at his side. Even Lilith and Satech had donned their most formal clothes, presenting themselves as an Egyptian goddess would. Loki had also wanted to come, being the victim of this attack. He was clad in a more royal and warlike version of his civilian clothes, showing armour plates of Gold on his arms, legs, and shoulders. They had brought Kali with them, who still was caught in her madness, magically bound and secured behind them.   
Iset, Nephthys, Osiris, and Horus entered the council chamber from the opposite side, clad in equal regalia, but their edges looked frayed. There was an unkempt quality to Nephthys' hair, a haunted look on Osiris' face, a nervous twitch of Horus' fingers and a near feverish glinting a madness lurking behind Iset's eyes.   
Before Iset could address the court or spin more of her lies, Set raised his voice.  
"Oh mighty lords of the great council. I have called you here once again to accuse some from our midst of heinous crimes. not only that my sister still schemes against my prosperous rule, now she even ropes the friends of my daughter into her mad plans. She sent an assassin after one of my guests in my own home. Apparently, there is nothing sacred to her anymore, not even the right of hospitality. Her poisonous spells have caught the consort of my daughter in her wicked nets, filled her with madness and sent her like a crazed attack dog against the foreign prince living under asylum in my tower. I implore you, to find justice for those crimes. She should be punished for her disregard of sacrad duties and laws of our lands."  
After he had finished, he left the floor to Iset, who quivered with rage. Her shrill voice shrieked through the halls, stabbing every ear it found.  
"This is all your fault, brother. You are the one collecting stray beasts and freaks from beyond our borders. In your rule, with have waned, my sister is nearly lost to the shadows of the Duat, while you and your brood of foreign bitches seem to flourish. Yes, I used that freakish monster there to kill the other one hiding under your skirt. He will bring only decay over our great lands with his foreign magic and cults following at his heels like loyal dogs. In a few years, there will be nothing left of us, only barbarians dancing in our once great temples, using our alters as toilets and scrawling their own messages over our hymns, defacing them with blasphemous drivel. I hate all of your little pets, so I thought is just, that one rabid dog should kill the other."  
Vitriol and contempt spew from her mouth, her demented fanatism and seething hatred going even deeper than Set had thought. At hearing those words full of poison and hate, Kali's mind cleared from the magic cast over her. Had Iset said not those words in her presence, the madnesses would still ravage her mind. But Iset had destroyed her own spell through her truth in her words. As the last of the rage subsided, and she saw, what she had done, her form shimmered, and all her destructive paraphernalia vanished. She was once again the woman, Satech had befriended all those years ago. Shame crushed over her in waves, tugging her gaze downward and filling her with dread. What had she done? She nearly killed another god in her bloodlust. She had lost the trust and probably any feelings Satech ever had towards her. And for what? The empty promises of one crazy bitch.

Anubis had watched over the bound goddess and he saw the change in her demeanor. At a wink of his hands, the chains fell from her hands, freeing her once more. With a bowed head and full of remorse, she strode forward, bowing low before Set and the council.  
"I have no words for my actions. Only that a spell was cast upon me, confounding my mind and driving me into madness. Oh mighty Set, I will no longer force my presence upon your household or darken your doorstep again. If you permit me, to get my belongings, I will leave your tower at once."  
She took one step back and turned towards Loki, bowing even lower before him.  
"My prince, words can not begin to describe, how sorry I am. I wanted to kill you. it would be your law given right to demand my head for this. I will bow before any judgment you deem necessary or just for my actions."  
Again she took a step to her left and there she sank to her knees before Satech.  
"And my beloved Satech, I brought you much pain. I will never be able, to look into your eyes again. You too have the right to bring any judgment or sentence over me, you deem fit. I give myself into your hands."   
Satech's eyes sought her fathers, and he nodded encouraging to her. At this, she grabbed the in a bound gesture outstretched hands of the woman before her and tugged her upward. Her arms encircled the body of her once beloved in a tight hug and she kissed her cheek, before letting her go.  
"Kali, your sentence should be, that you leave the two lands as soon as possible. Of course, you can take any of your belongings with you, but after you are finished packing, you will leave the tower and my borders as fast as you are able to. I know, it was dark magic, working in your mind, but I also know, that that kind of magic only nurtures urges all ready there. Now it is clear to me, that you were no longer happy here. We all wish you well on your travels. May you find your piece inside your own land. May its soil heal your wound and bring you peace again."  
At this Kali bowed low again and vanished from the chamber to fulfill her sentence.  
Now Set addressed the obturated form of his sister.  
"My dear Iset, you, on the other hand, will never learn. You carry hatred in your heart that destroyed not only your family but will destroy you too. For you, I can do nothing more, than to ease your suffering."  
Set's voice slithered in a low hum out of his mouth, bringing with it glowing symbols that formed around the four culprits. The council fell into synch with him, their voices filling the chamber like the roar of a coming flood. It swelled and waned with his waving hands, drawing lines and hieroglyphs in the air above the heads of the four gods. His curse took first hold of Osiris, surging into him like a golden claw, wrenching his Shuyet and Heka out of his body, leaving it behind nearly bereft of its vivid colours. A glowing twin of Osiris' old form began to coalesce in front of him, forming a similar shadow twin, as Set had made for Apep so long ago.  
The next victim of the curse was Horus. A similar claw also swept through his body, leaving him behind in an even worse shape than his father, for he had lost his more animalistic features, leaving him as only human.   
The women screamed at this cruel punishment, hastily sinking to their knees and clutching the barely breathing forms of the men. The last claw, an even bigger on, plucked the goddesses from the floor, pushing their forms together and crushing them in its golden hue. Two more shadow twins appeared next to the first two and the claw let the now only a single body of Iset crash to the ground.   
"There. Ma'at will be observed, for the positions of Iset, Nephthys, Osiris, and Horus will be filled with their twins, formed out of their Heka and Shuyet. As for you three, I will give you one more blessing. As of this moment, you are gods no longer. You will live your lives amongst the humans. You will be outcasts, never knowing the warm embrace of belonging. But you shall retain enough of your golden blood, that you can't die, whatever you do. But I am not without mercy. You will know nothing of your lives before this moment. Never again shall you meet, or know what you have lost. Your heart shall only know the feeling of having lost something precious. So is my will."  
The air around the three forms shimmered in a golden hue, and slowly they began to fade from the council chamber.

Centuries passed. The world changed and the gods with it. Christianity swept over the known world like a wave of hymns and crosses, burying everything under it. But Set and his rule looked for the cracks in the near-perfect walls of the churches. He found a way, a backdoor to creep back in. His rites and prayers lived on in the fringe cults, the heretics, the magic circles. He taught his Heka to those desperate enough and they took his name with them. After the Cross came the faith of Muhammad and it too built its places of worship in his old temples, changing the cross to calligraphy. But he endured. Most of the time, his name would be whispered together with Satan or Iblis, he would be called evil, but still, people prayed to him.   
Crusades, Renaissance, Enlightenment, the Founding of America, all that came and went. He and his family stayed not still, but swam with the tides and found shelter everywhere, where there was need for them. Their prayers were heard in the witch coven of England, the theosophic circles, from Crowley's lips, in the quiet chambers of La Vey and as the new wave of occultism swapped over the late twentieth century, it brought with it the exotic smell of ancient knowledge and whispered rites of evocation and Heka.  
The twenty-first century found the family still living together. Set's heart was still filled with only love towards his beloved partner Anubis and Satech had fallen in love with Loki every day a little bit more. Apep and Lilith watched over them like gentle parents, giving wise counsel and keeping in check their more chaotic tendencies.   
Now they not only lived in their beloved Kemet but all over the world, for a piece of their two lands was in every consulate and embassies. High glossy towers, constructs of glinting glass and steel was now their hunting ground. They now freely mixed with humans, using the faceless crowds to their advantage, masking their godly glow with suits and dresses of the upper classes. If one were to watch them closely, one would still see the golden threads of their magic, curling around them, making it possible to bend the world around them to their will. But they blend in nicely.   
Lilith was mostly clad into fine white dresses, cut in the elegant styles of the modern business world. Her slim stature held aloft with equally white high heels. Satech on the other hands preferred darker colours, and more trousers in her style, mostly something wide and flowy like pant skirts with thin dark red blouses with flowy or puffy arms and tight cuffs. Black high heels brought her nearly to an eye-level with her beloved. The men mostly wore suits in different cuts. Anubis favoured slim-cut ones in fine fabrics, accentuating his slim stature. He kept his preferred color of black and accentuated his look with white shirts. Loki meanwhile forewent most of the time a jacket, wearing only trousers and a vest from black glossy materials with an emerald shirt underneath and dark shades obscuring his eyes. Apep valued more old fashioned dark tailcoats, that shimmered with a slightly lighter scale pattern if the light hit it at just the right angle. The dark grey colour of his shirts equaled his own skin tones. Set cut mostly the most imposing figure in his charcoal storm grey pants and vest, a deep red shirt underneath and the suit jacket thrown over his shoulders, its lapels secured with a thin golden chain.  
Most of the people did not look twice at the family, deeming them part of the upper business class and rich.   
Right now they were on their way to the Central Park in New York for a family vacation. They walked together through New Yorks glittering streets, laughing and enjoying their day. They came from the Metropolitan Museum of Arts, where they had seen the Egyptian Collection, reminiscing about the good old days and were now in need of a breath of fresh air. Their way led them past some of the darker parts, secreted away in the shadows of the skyscrapers. From one of the waste-filled alleys sounded the squeaking wheel of a shopping cart, being pushed in their direction. A woman clad in rags, disheveled and stinking of the refuses of men pushed her cart past them, muttering under her breath.  
"Yes sister, we have to find my baby boy...his wings will hurt...we need to find him...come let's brew a potion...find our scrying bowl...yes sister, I will get you out of me..."  
The overflowing cart went past them and the woman went on her way into the next alleyway. They had not looked at her, and she had ignored them too, to lost in her own mind. The sound of squeaking rat and skittering bottles swallowed her muttering and the six gods went on their way into the sunlit park, laughing and enjoying their day.


End file.
